Dawn of Ages
by Crystal RoseWing
Summary: (Not Alone Sequel) The war between the Autobots and Decepticons may be over but the scars are festering. But when the Predacon race, long thought to be lost to the stars, resurfaces and dark and dangerous secrets are exposed... will there be any chance for peace? Or will another war, bloodier than the last destroy both races? STORY NOT DEAD, JUST ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE...
1. The Flow of Time

**This little fanfic is a sequel to my previous Transformers fic** _ **'Not Alone'**_ **so if you haven't read that you may not understand what's going on here. Also please see the end of the chapters for all Authoress's notes :)**

 _ **Dawn of Ages**_

 _ **Chapter 1**_

 **The Flow of Time**

 _To anyone who is not familiar with them, the magnificent halls of Predakings castle could be quite eerie at night…_

However the Dragon King felt no such thing as he quietly walked through the hallways that were only illuminated by torches held high upon the walls. Though the flickering light of the flames did little to pierce through the seemingly all-consuming darkness, but in truth Predaking did not actually need them to know where he was going... not anymore anyway; he'd begrudgingly admit that back when the castles construction had first been completed he had gotten lost within the winding corridors on more than one occasion. But by this point in time, millions of earth years later, what felt like a nearly countless number of vorns, he had walked them so often that each one was long memorized. If there had been anyone else present and able to glimpse within the Dragonformers optics, they would have seen that he was tired as well as deeply worried about something.

He continued his walk through the passages until he came upon a staircase that was bathed in the soft, seemingly ethereal light that emanated from Diuturnus's two moons and the nearby gas giant. Trying to be as quiet as a being of his immense stature could manage, he walked up the stairs and came to a single ornate door where a pair of torches that burned with blue flames were positioned on either side of it. He hesitated for a moment as though unsure whether or not he should even enter the chamber, but whatever doubts he had he apparently dismissed before opening this door and walking inside.

The room was large, circular and currently very dark. The stone walls were crafted to look as though they were part of the night sky, speckled with glittering diamond shards of varying sizes and colors that had been embedded within them to mimic the appearance of stars. There were several tapestries upon the walls some showing beautiful patterns while others depicted breathtaking landscape scenes, presumably of various places upon the planet that the Predacon species now called home. One tapestry in particular depicted a multi-headed beast battling with an Imperial Dragon, a story which Predaking knew all too well. The tale having long since become rooted within their culture and were three or four comfortable looking chairs situated in various places throughout the room, one was positioned in front of a fireplace where blue flames were currently dying down to embers. Off to one side of the room was a desk that held an assortment of various items, amongst them a large white crystal ball that he knew served no other purpose than to be a decorative paperweight. Scattered around were also many shelves lined with books, data pads, scrolls, and various other sorts of reading and writing materials. But the Predacon King was not interested in any of that, his only interest was drawn to the figure sitting quietly in one of the chairs looking out the only window in the room. A window that was wide open and this lone figure was silently staring out it; a few faint traces of snow were present on the edges of this window and in some areas dusted the floor. Something that was not surprising considering it would only be reaching the halfway point through the long winter vorn in several weeks. But this figure either didn't mind or was simply ignoring the frigid cold. Whichever it was Predaking wasn't entirely sure but he smiled slightly as he approached the figure of his beloved mate and the Predacon Queen, Songbird.

She had not changed much over the long vorns. If there were any changes that could have even be noticed they were concealed by what she was currently wearing namely a heavy but beautiful navy blue silken robe, no doubt made specifically to fit her frame. But one thing that could be readily seen was that the gryphon femme looked _tired_. Not just physically either, her sapphire optics shown with an exhaustion that seemed to rise from the depths of her very spark. It far surpassed the similar look in Predaking's own golden optics. She eventually took notice of her mates' approach and turned to look at him. Although her gaze still held an unfathomable fatigue the smile that formed on her features did manage to conceal some of it.

"How are they my love?" She asked, her voice was barely louder than a whisper but was clearly laden with weariness.

Predaking chuckled softly as he approached his weakened mate. "I am not yet as skilled as you are with the triplet's nightly ritual. They coerced an extra bedtime story out of me, but rest assured that they are asleep now." He said in a hushed tone and his voice was as soft and as warm as his smile, but it faded slightly as he gently embraced his mate, his Song.

"Between you and our tiny little sparklings with large cute optics, the sparklings remain undefeated." Songbird joked with a weak laugh as Predaking's hold on her tightened ever so slightly. Although he was being far more cautious than he normally would, treating her as though she was made of glass and could shatter in his servos in a split second if he was not careful.

"They worry about you my dear. They… they are still too young to understand what has happened. All they know is that you have fallen ill and that they have not seen you for quite some time now." The Dragon King was referring to the three youngest additions to their family. A little group of triplets two of whom were dragonformers and the third was a gryphonformer. The only mech was named Snowstorm and his two sisters were named Silverlight and Thorn with the last being the gryphonformer. They were very young, not quite a vorn old yet. At their current state they were roughly the equivalent of three year olds. The aging process having considerably slowed from what it had been throughout the long war between the Autobots and Decepticons, but according to Knockout this was something to be expected. As the severe and constant stress of wartime on a carriers frame triggered a response within the sparklings coding which prompted a shorter gestation cycle and advanced frame aging, with that stress gone the growth process had slowed back down to what it was naturally.

In response to Predakings words Songbird frowned and sighed as she leaned into her mates loving embrace. "I don't mean to ignore them, I just… I just needed some time." Her voice worried Predaking for he could never remember ever having heard her sound so _weak._

It was no secret that for the past several weeks his queen had been in poor health. It had begun with the same symptoms of a mild cold, merely discomfort and there was so little that she barely paid it any mind. But with each passing day the discomfort grew worse and other symptoms began to crash through her powerful frame in waves of growing pain. As the agony grew worse, it was not long before Songbird had ended up bedridden. This mysterious illness baffled the physicians and healers called in to help their queen and it left her with barely enough strength to stay conscious. But this sickness had reached its crescendo several weeks ago. Late one night when Predaking had been awakened from his slumber by his mates' frantic screams. As he'd been recharging on a couch just a little ways down the hall from their berthroom. As he had not wanted to inhibit her rest but he still wanted to be nearby should she need him. Summoned by those shrieks he raced into the room only to find his precious Song had fallen off the berth and was lying on the floor writhing in anguish… _as she had miscarried the twins she'd only begun carrying four months prior._

While the illness may have peaked that day it still lingered for another agonizing week before Songbirds body managed to fight off whatever toxin had been ailing her. But by that time the damage had been done. Her processor had been addled by the sickness and she did not remember the miscarriage. Predaking had been the one who'd told her the horrible truth when she had first started to panic when she could no longer detect the sparklings life frequencies within her frame. He never wanted to have to do that again, he never wanted to see her break down like that… She'd never lost a child before, let alone two. She had never even considered it to even be a possibility and because of that the miscarriage was such a devastating blow. Undoubtedly the sound of her spark-broken sobs would haunt his nightmares for many vorns yet to come. But seeing Songs health beginning to improve filled the Dragon King's spark with a sense of relief and it finally gave him some good news to tell their elder children. Nearly all whom had returned to the castle when they had heard the news of the tragedy that had befallen their mother.

Still in spite of her children's presence Songbird had wished to remain secluded in her tower room. Something that was very unlike her, but grief and depression were known to alter an individual's behavior. Neither her mate nor her children were pleased when they heard this; the spark-twins Zeus and Thor in particular did not believe they should leave their mother alone after such events but Predaking strictly forbid the two from dishonoring their mothers wish for solitude. Something that was far easier said than done, considering that those two could be extremely stubborn and several times had tried to sneak up to Songbirds private tower. Fortunately, or unfortunately for them, Predaking's eldest stepdaughter Freefall had stopped every one of their attempts. It was somewhat sad that of all of Predakings and Songbirds biological children the twins were undoubtedly the dimmest. Freefall on the other hand was one of the most respected Gladiators to ever fight in Diuturnus's great Coliseum and she always had a talent for wrangling the two mischievous brothers. It also helped that they were completely terrified of her.

Predaking shifted slightly as he glanced out the open window and looked down at the partially visible outline of the city of Praesidia, the closest major city to their location. The cities outline was currently blanketed in a layer of freshly fallen snow and the storm clouds looming high above promised to deliver more soon. An omen which made the gryphon femme chuckle slightly. "Ulciscor continues to wander through the world bringing forth the winter storms and frigid snow and she shall not cease her travels until the first light of the new spring. Then she slumbers while her sister Aequitas awakens and begins her own journey."

"So travelers be wary for raging storms tend to herald her approach." Predaking muttered before finally releasing Songbird from his gentle embrace. "You really should not be up here alone with your window wide open on such a cold night. I fear for your health my love. You are still weak, I can feel it through our bond." This was not a lie, the Dragon King could literally feel his mate's exhaustion in his very spark and it worried him a great deal.

Songbird however just shook her head slightly and smiled at him. "I'm sorry that I'm worrying you. I know that I can say you don't have to worry about me so much… but I also know you will do so anyway. Besides, I wasn't alone. River has kept me company, even made me some fresh tea." She said gesturing over to one of the chairs in the back of the room where Predaking had failed to notice that his biological daughter was sleeping quietly.

"I did not even know she had arrived, let alone that she was up here with you. But I was under the impression you wished to be alone." He inquired as he inwardly realized that he would need to apologize to his twin sons later on.

"That was what I originally wanted, but River is your daughter and there are times that she shows signs of inheriting your stubborn streak. She guessed that I was up here so she flew directly to my window and when I let her in she just didn't leave. But her companions left for Praesidia as soon as they gave me their condolences."

"Ah yes, the Fury and the halfbreed." He snorted slightly before quietly muttering. "Zurun sos." The words coming from an instinctual language Predacons were born understanding; a language that they had reclaimed ages ago.

The Predacon Queen rolled her optics at her mate's insulting reference to the _'halfbreed'_ or the ' _Zurun sos,_ ' which in their language translated to _'Strange Blood'_ either way he was also the only mech who traveled alongside their daughter. "You really shouldn't refer to the boy like that, Ace has not only proven himself to be loyal to River, but we know that there is no one faster than him in all of our world."

"He was born with four wings, of course he would be fast." Predaking huffed slightly. "His sire is not of our kind, but one of the lesser Cybertronian breeds. If his child had not developed that mutation I have my doubts that he would have any other special traits. Aside of course from that ridiculous accent he shares with his sire."

"Was it a simple mutation? Or was it a blessingfrom _Selene_? You know our goddess tends to work in mysterious ways." Song said simply as she referenced the patron deity of the Predacons.

These days she was now called by her true name, no longer did she see the need to hide behind false names or aliases. She spoke her true name for the first time when she finally came to the planet her Predacons now inhabited. Her arrival was far quicker than anyone could have anticipated, a mere 10,000 Earth years after she claimed the species as her own and also brought the long Cybertronian war to an abrupt and brutal end. An end that she herself had been the final deciding factor in, when she forced both Autobots and Decepticons to face the bitter reality that both sides had lost... Lost the war, lost their leaders and even lost the very All Spark.

 _Even if that last one was the Predacon's little secret…_

Nonetheless when Selene had descended upon their world it was revealed that she had not come alone, she brought with her the beings Aequitas and Ulciscor. Two towering and powerful female creatures that bore noticeably similar traits to their Deity of Balance and she had declared that the two were actually her sisters. In fact she stated that the three of them had been born together at the same time. Triplets. A rather shocking revelation, especially to Songbird, who had been the first Predacon to ever converse with the deity and she had never once mentioned these so called siblings. To this day Selene had never said exactly where her two sisters were during all the events that had transpired, she merely said that _'They had always been together, even when they had shared the same body and mind. Each always had her own voice.'_ Not a very forthcoming answer and Selene never revealed anything more about their origins. Still it was relieving to the Predacon Queen to see that her old friend seemed healthier both physically and mentally than at their last meeting. Yet returning to the subject of Ulciscor and Aequitas, it was clear that neither of these two other sisters were as powerful as Selene herself; and when the goddess merged herself to their planet, Aequitas migrated to the southern pole where she slept as a stone statue through the autumn and winter vorns while Ulciscor settled in the northern pole and would likewise enter a stone sleep during spring and summer. But the deities' arrival was only the trigger to a vast amount of changes that began to reshape the very fabric of reality upon their planet.

Truth be told Diuturnus had always had an unusual problem of weak dimensional barriers. As hard as it was to believe many Predacons had claimed to see things and to interact with beings not from their world, let alone their plane of existence. Powerful beings. Now Predaking had not believed any of these stories in the beginning, not when Orb Weaver had showed up abruptly one day back when the castle was still being constructed and had something of a hysterical fit! Screaming that her lab was haunted by some sort of monstrous wraith or demon. Apparently she'd seen some sort of formless creature that she described to be nothing more than a disgusting mass of eyes and tentacles. The king had dismissed her of course, stating that the techno-organic femme had merely been working too hard and was starting to see things. Shortly after that incident Songbird had told him of an odd event that had occurred when she had been out hunting. After she had killed her chosen quarry, she'd had a run in with a spirit who had applauded her skill with the hunt and stated that her species had caught his attention as they were amongst the finest hunters he had ever encountered. Predaking didn't believe her either, something he regretted saying when she got agitated at him and gave him the cold wing for nearly a week afterwards. But there had come a time when his optics had been rather forcefully opened to the truth. Shortly following the arrival of Selene and her sisters to their planet and after their collective powers had caused such immense changes to their world, the existence of these spirits was not only confirmed, but Weaver may have taken a bit of pleasure when Predaking eventually came face to _'face'_ with the creature she'd encountered in her lab. But the full story of how Predaking came to speak with Mora for the first time would have to remain a tale for another day.

Returning to the situation at hand Predaking glanced out the open window when a low rumble of thunder resounded ominously and a frigid wind began to whip around the tower. Bringing the promise of a particularly nasty winter storm, the kind where wings froze and lightning ripped through sparks. "You should come to bed now my dear, you still need rest." He said gently as he reached over and closed the window. Songbird nodded, knowing that the exhaustion had taken a heavy toll on her frame as it was. There was no need to run the risk of unintentionally injuring herself further and in turn making her family worry more.

"Let River sleep here tonight." She whispered softly to her mate. "She flew here nonstop from the Sothern Shrine and only dozed off a few minutes before you came up here."

"The Southern Shrine?" Predaking echoed more than a little surprised by this considering it was literally located at the southern pole of the planet and an incredible distance from the castle. "Then it is no wonder that she was the last to return." He suddenly spied a heavy black and blue blanket draped on the back of one of the other chairs in the room which he quickly grabbed and then carefully draped over Rivers sleeping form. This caused the femme shifted slightly in her sleep but she did not wake. Predaking then returned his attention to Song as she stood up. But the motion of doing so gave her a sudden dizzy spell and she had to grab onto the larger dragonformer in order to steady herself.

The Gryphon Queen barely managed to take three steps on her own before she nearly lost her balance yet again and Predaking opted for a safer alternative. So before Songbird could react she found herself being held bridal style in the powerful arms of her mate. Under normal circumstances she would have protested him treating her in such an indignant way but given the circumstances the act of affection was appreciated. In fact as she rested her helm against Predakings powerful chassis, the sound of his thunderous sparkbeat becoming a relaxing melody to the physically and emotionally exhausted gryphonformer.

He carried her silently through the dark halls and then into their berthroom. It was spacious in size and its decor appropriately fit the personalities of the monarchs who resided within it. Currently the only light within the room came from an ornately carved crystal lantern with a flame burning in its center. Their berth alone was positively huge, but then again it was a custom that Predacon berths needed to be big enough to accommodate not only their owners' robot forms but their beast forms as well. Songbird slipped from her mate's arms and wearily managed to slip free of her silken robe not even caring that she left it on the ground or that she bumped into her nightstand causing her neatly stacked deck of Tarot cards to spill to the floor as she slipped underneath the heavy blankets and mechanimal skins. There were already more blankets on the berth than there usually were and Predaking proceeded to add two more on top of those. The final one being a special blanket that was split into two different scenes; one which depicted a sun with raging fire burning fiercely around it while the other depicted a night scene with one silvery crescent moon in the foreground and a smaller one in the background and the whole image was surrounded by stars and lightly veiled with the colors of the _'worlds lights'_ or what would've been known as the northern lights back on earth. This blanket had been a gift from their youngest son Scythe back when his this sight had finally failed him, back when he had only just started his tutelage under the optics of a powerful spirit and before the goddess Selene had bestowed the gift of perception upon him. Even completely blind the young mech's talents were incredible.

"I… I fear that I won't be well enough to attend the Winter Zenith Festival with you this vorn. I know that we are obligated to go… and… It's only a few days away." Songbird began to mumble as her need for sleep began to wash over her frame.

"That is far from important now my dear. Rest now." The words barely left Predakings mouth before he knew that Song had already slipped into a deep and hopefully dreamless sleep. He chuckled slightly when he realized this and he gently traced a claw over her helm before he turned to the crystal lantern and blew out the flame within. It would not be long after that that he too was claimed by sleep.

 _In spite of their recent tragedy they still had so much to be grateful for…_

 _Time would heal the wounds and the sorrow would pass…_

 _The future of their race and their family remained a shining star upon the horizon…_

* * *

 _However the same thing could not be said for Cybertron…_

Looking out from one of the upper windows in the Iacon Database, Megatron stared blankly out at the bustling city before him. Even though the war had ended eons ago, to the former warlord it had never felt like it was truly over. However the image of gleaming city laid out before him should have helped to convince him otherwise shouldn't it? No, though time had marched onwards for hundreds of vorns and the physical scars appeared to have healed across the planet's surface… appearances were deceiving and Cybertron was seeming to once again be spiraling into another dark age and the threat of yet another civil war began to loom ominously upon the horizon. He was only distracted from his dark thoughts by the sound of someone approaching him from behind and he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the smaller form of Orion Pax approaching him. His arms were, as usual, full of datapads that he had been reviewing and organizing.

The former Autobot leader Optimus Prime had once again been regressed back to being Orion Pax, only this time it was a _**permanent**_ regression. As the Matrix of Leadership had been forcefully torn from his frame by that _demoness_ … but that story was in the past and it would have to remain that way. Dredging up those memories never led to anything but ill feelings and old regrets. Once the Iacon Database had been restored the Once-Prime returned to his old job. For he had never truly wanted to be anything else. Of course that had brought about a tidal wave of problems on its own, mostly in the form of his other self's teammates. Team Prime had been present for the events that had returned Optimus back to Orion Pax the second and final time, but just as the time before, Pax still had no memory of actually being Optimus Prime. His last memories were actually of Jack Darby presenting him with the key to Vector Sigma and then everything went dark until he had _'awakened'_ again. His former teammates, even though they remained supportive of him, when they'd tried to help him re-adjust to the newly restored world things had been… awkward. Orion knew that they only meant to be helpful to him and friendly. But when they would mention battles they had fought together and the happy memories that were shared between them and the human members of their team who had since become part of their _'family'_ these were memories he did not have… and he was not really a member of this family. They were Optimus's family not his. Although it was the farthest thing from what they had intended, everything they did only made him feel even more like an outsider. In the end the only ones he was able to really connect with were the individuals he had known back when he was Orion Pax, back when he was himself. His old friends, Ratchet and Soundwave and of course Soundwaves eldest son Ravage. But Orion, while glad for the familiar faces could not help but seek out Megatron as well.

After their run in with the demonic being, the _'Daughter of Unicron'_ who had not only stolen the Matrix of Leadership from Optimus, but also had silenced and bound Megatrons voice and strength. This left the former gladiator unable to fight again or utter a single word. It was a miserable fate for such a proud mech. Even after Cybertron had been restored via the white energon the she-demon had begrudgingly provided and their world was steadily being rebuilt by the refugees that were returning to the planet. The former Decepticon Warlord had retreated to the ruined city of Kaon, into what had remained of the old gladiatorial slave pits. He had gone back to the darkest most nightmarish place he could think of to hide away from everything and everyone. Sentencing himself to rot alone in his silent rage, humiliation and misery. The members of Team Prime would have only been too happy to let him do as he planned, but Orion wouldn't do that… he _couldn't_ do that. Soundwave was also unwilling to let his former leader and friend disappear and wallow in his own private pit.

To condense a long story, over time Megatron eventually came out of his self-induced exile and when he did so, he came back with Orion. It was also revealed that he had bonded to Pax over that time. While it came as an unpleasant surprise to some, it was also an opportunity for the newly reformed council to gain some support from the populace. Since the wars end it was unsurprising that many of the returning soldiers on both sides were having a hard time accepting or even believing that all the strife and bloodshed had ended with the simple declaration that both sides had lost. Since Decepticons looked to their warlord as the Autobots looked to their Prime or in this case the mech who used to be Optimus Prime, both were appointed to look out for the interests of their respective faction. Megatron despised this arrangement from the beginning not only because he was rendered mute so any order or decree he gave to the Decepticons would have to be relayed through Soundwave; which called into question the orders authenticity, but because he found reestablishing the council in any form to be a bad idea. He was even more irritated to learn that Ultra Magnus had been named the new head of this council, and Magnus was not happy to have Megatron being allowed to join. In any case it was an arrangement that everyone was equally unhappy with, which may very well have been why that the shaky peace between the two sides had lasted as long as it did. But things were changing now, many would claim that everything was heading back down the same dark path that had led to the Great War in the first place and as Orion put away the datapads he had been carrying and turned to face his bonded. The look Megatron saw in his optics indicated that he too could see the darkness forming on the horizon.

"You probably already know, but there was another incident today." Orion said softly. "A group of six mechs got into a large brawl on the other side of the city. Three of them were arrested for disturbing the peace. The other three were not charged… and there have already been several violent protests because of this." Megatron turned away from the window to better face Pax, also letting the lights in the room better show his imposing frame which the only noticeable difference in his appearance was the battle mask which concealed the lower part of his face. Since he'd installed it he almost never took it off; it was a necessity to hide the stitches that the demon used to silence him. His pride forbid anyone to see the wretched things, but Orion could occasionally coax him to take the mask off. If only for the gesture to let his bondmate know that the disturbing sight did not bother him.

Megatron remained still for a few moments before he began making coordinated servo motions that were actually Cybertronian sign language. A relatively new development that had been almost entirely derived from the humans' sign language. _'Let me guess, the three who were arrested were former Decepticons while the three who were released were former Autobots.'_

"Indeed." Orion confirmed, his voice low and worried. "Some witnesses say that originally the fight was just between two individuals but then the others joined in at some point and everything just went from bad to worse."

' _And I take it that the Wolficon has already exploited this?'_

Pax nodded slowly. "As soon as the details became public he started claiming that the police are favoring the Autobots over the Decepticons again. After he made these statements the riots started. It would be easier to dispute if he had not been right about such things in the past." The Wolficon that Orion was referring to was named Steeljaw and he was quickly becoming the new voice of the dejected and unhappy masses. He was a known former Decepticon and veteran of the war, and like many others he was extremely unhappy with the final results that the long conflict had yielded. But unlike others, he was gifted with a golden voice and when he spoke mecha listened. What was both frustrating and unnerving was that with every speech he gave, the mechs popularity grew… and the less the former Decepticons seemed willing to listen to Megatron.

The silver mech emitted a low growl before he cast another glance out the window he had been looking out earlier and Orion felt a flutter of dark amusement bleed across their bond before Megatron returned his attention to him and began signing again. _'The irony of this situation is not lost on me. Once I was in his position and now here I am trying to prevent the very movement I started from happening again.'_ He paused very briefly, a distant and cold look forming behind his red optics before he slowly continued. _'I find that I have become a hypocrite; …no… it's worse than that… I am a traitor to my own cause.'_

"You're letting Steeljaws' words get to you." Orion commented as he moved closer to him. "You're not a traitor Megatron; you are trying prevent another war from arising because if that happens it will truly be the end of any chance we will ever have for peace. The bloodshed would never stop. Ultra Magnus has even-" No sooner had he mentioned Magnus's name did Megatron suddenly begin signing angrily, his motions undecipherable even to his mate. But even more noticeable than the former Warlords agitated movements was the look of rage now burning ferociously in his optics. A look that Orion had seen far more times than he wanted to admit. Megatron's voice had been muted and his strength stolen by the devil spawn of Unicron back on earth but his rage had not been. At times like this it was clear to see that his anger was still burning alive and well within his spark.

His silent tirade lasted for several more long minutes before he was able to register the look of worry on Orions face which caused the silver titan to pause and summon a great deal of effort to suppress his anger until it was replaced by a bitter numbness. After which he began to sign again, only this time it was much slower and understandable. _'Forgive me Orion, I didn't mean to seem angry at you. But please… don't speak of that fool to me.'_ It was nothing short of obvious to say that Magnus and Megatron were unable to look past their differences. In fact it may have been the understatement of the vorn. From the very beginning Magnus had made it no secret that he didn't trust Megatron at all, and when opportunities presented themselves he was always the first one to undermine Megatrons status within the council. Shooting down every proposal that the ex-Decepticon either presented or even so much as endorsed. The end result was a bitter hatred between them and a deep rift between the few Decepticons that had been chosen to be a part of the new council and its Autobot majority. In fact things were at such a tense point in time that the last three meetings had to be ended early on account of the debates dissolving into an all-out brawls.

"I did not think your anger was directed at me Megatron; I just hate seeing you so angry. It reminds me of… dark times."

' _Dark times indeed. But at the rate things are going they're only going to get darker.'_ Although the words were silent they held a viscous strength to them. _'If there is any hope that we can avoid another war it's dying quickly. Sometimes I think that the only reason my Decepticons still listen to me is the due to my threat of summoning the Decepticon Justice Division to enforce my decrees.'_

"But the DJD have been lost since before the war ended." Orion muttered darkly. "We're lucky that Steeljaw is unwilling to call your bluff."

' _But he's not a fool, and the threat of my Justice Division will only go so far. Soon he will demand proof that they are still loyal to me, let alone alive. Honestly I believe the only reason he hasn't called my bluff yet is because that Mafia boss friend of his prevents him from doing so.'_ In all honesty when it was first discovered that Steeljaw had ties with Thunderhoof, one of Cybertrons most notorious and brutal crime bosses; it had made both the police force and the council suddenly take him far more seriously. It also added a whole new level of complications when it came to dealing with him. The wolficon always had at least two very large bodyguards with him whenever he was in the public's optic and after he'd fanned the flames of discord and before the police could detain him on the grounds of inciting violence, he'd quickly retreat back into Hoof's territory. The areas where even the police dared not venture into. It wasn't surprising that much of the areas Thunderhoof controlled were largely populated with former Decepticons or Neutrals, what was surprising was how complete his hold on the mecha who lived and worked in those neighborhoods was. Aside from being terrified of the Cervicon's near-legendary temper, many of these individuals held a genuine loyalty to him. As they believed he was in a better position to protect them and their families than the police force. So many were willing to choose a mob boss over the police, those whose job was supposed to be to protect and serve, somewhere out there Unicron was laughing at the darkness slowly consuming their world. There had been several attempts to take down Thunderhoof, all of which had failed spectacularly. In fact the most recent one had gone so horribly wrong that it had resulted in the deaths of dozens of officers and had unintentionally further divided their world's population.

That particularly disastrous mission had been authorized not by Prowl, the current head of the police force but by Contrail, one of the more prominent council members. The plan had entailed that several specially selected officers were to abduct Sables, a femme who held a very special position within Thunderhoofs organization... Namely she was the mob boss's mate. They'd succeeded in kidnapping her but had failed to factor in that she was no weakling. Wouldn't it have been logical to assume that anyone who had been known as the _'Blade Dancer'_ among the Decepticon ranks would probably be armed with multiple weapons at any given time? Sables had managed to escape her captors although she had reportedly sustained some severe injuries in the process… and that was when the bloodbath had begun. To start off all of the cops that had been involved in Sables kidnapping had been murdered and their families _slaughtered_. Then there was the attack on the Police Headquarters, in the form of a bomb going off and killing fifteen mecha and injuring a multitude of others. Prowl was amongst the wounded and even now several weeks after the incident he was still laid up in a hospital. But being a true workaholic he was still attempting to do most of his paperwork from his hospital berth. Much to the aggravation of Ratchet who was left with no other option but to leave his apprentice, a young mech named Cloud-9, in the room to make sure that the Praxian actually rested instead of trying to work.

Yet in spite of the living pit that the police force endured, Contrail got it worse than anyone. Somehow his role in Sables abduction had been found out and made public and well… apparently he had been brutally tortured for days in manners that were far too horrible to even think about before he was finally _stomped to death_. Which left no doubt in anyone's mind that the Cervicon had personally murdered the council member. But as with everything else he was involved in, there was no way to prove that he was behind any of it. Beit the bombing or Contrails murder, for each he had solid alibis. Not to mention that Steeljaw had caused a scene in Kaon when he had proclaimed how low the council had fallen as to get the police to target someone's **pregnant** mate! Witnesses even stated that when Steeljaw spoke his voice was full of genuine _rage_. It was the first time he had ever encouraged violence during one of his speeches and he'd gotten his wish in the form of a full-fledged riot which had taken over a week to calm down. Even now tensions were still running very high, what had happened today was proof enough of that.

"Regardless of how things look right now," Orion said softly as he gently took Megatrons servo. "there is still hope that things may yet change for the better." The larger mech just rolled his optics and shook his helm before pulling his servo from Orion's. Sometimes there simply was no need for Megatron to sign anything at all. Some looks and movements were universally understood and Orion didn't seem to care for this latest remark. "I'm serious Megatron. There is always a light in the darkness, even if it is nothing but a faint glimmer."

' _Your hope is as ill-placed as it is blind. Where is this light now Orion? Where is this glimmer?'_

Before Orion could respond to that frigid remark the sound of someone clearing their throat caught both of their attention. Silently approaching them was a young mech probably the equivalent of a twenty year old at the oldest. "Sorry I'm late, training ran longer today than I expected." When he spoke his voice was very clear, quiet and calm. As quickly as the pout had appeared on Orion's features it disappeared and was replaced with a warm smile.

"I was wondering what was keeping you Excalibur." Orion commented. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes Carrier everything is fine…" The young mech answered his voice barely raising from its quiet tone. "The other reason I'm late was that Wildcharge got into another fight and I had to break it up before he hurt someone."

The son of Megatron and Orion, **Excalibur** or sometimes just called Ex for short, was physically an amalgamation of both of his parents' characteristics. Although his frame type leaned more towards Megatons' particularly noticeable in the appearance of his pedes and sharp servos. The overall shape of his helm was again a mix between Orion Pax and Megatron but his face definitely held many more similarities to Pax, especially his large blue optics. He was slightly taller than his carrier but not by much, and when he opened his mouth it was clear to see that he had very sharp upper and lower canines. His coloration was almost entirely silver with only a few patches of dark blue here and there. He got his name when Orion had come across it while reading through some of the human race's mythology during his carrying. Megatron had admitted it had seemed to be a fitting name although the reasons for each of them liking it were vastly different. Orion Pax saw it to be a symbol of peace, while Megatron saw it to represent a weapon of incredible power. Either way, both of them liked the name and thus it stuck.

' _You said Wildcharge got into_ _ **another**_ _fight?_ ' Megatron inquired and even though his words were silent it was hard to miss how he stressed the word 'another' indicating that this was something that happened frequently. _'You need to be careful around him. There will come a time when it won't matter if he's your friend, don't be in his way.'_

"Your wrong sire, Wildcharge… he doesn't even mean to get into these fights. He just can't take being made fun of." His son tried to explain, knowing that he was doing a poor job of protecting his friends' appearance in his sire's optics.

Wildcharge was the half-Predacon son of Arcee and Cliffjumper; having gained his Predacon bloodline from Cliffjumpers' resurrected form as he'd been changed into one by the same demon that had silenced Megatron. Although no one would ever guess that there was the word 'half' in front of the Predacon. He was a very large frame, larger than Ex and there was some debate on whether or not he was taller than his sire. As he was if his horns were counted, but wasn't if they were not. He and Excalibur had been friends since their sparklinghood. He'd always been a mischievous but well-meaning youngling who had a real gift for making others laugh. But a darkness had always seemed to follow him wherever he went, a darkness that had taken form in a seemingly endless supply of bullies who never missed the opportunity to make fun of him because he was a Predacon... because he was _different_. When he was a youngling he had just laughed it off, never taken anything they said to spark. But as he grew older his tolerance to the teasing began to decrease and he became more and more _angry_. So much so that he began to start fights with anyone who teased him and with his powerful frame the fights quickly became one-sided and he would continue to brutally pound his tormentors until they were somehow separated. Needless to say this also caused a rift to form between him and his parents. Particularly with Cliffjumper; the easy going mech quickly found his patience driven to wits end with his sons constant fighting. In fact Wildcharge and his sire argued so often that at this point they just didn't talk or even acknowledge each other at all, even when they were in the same room. It drove Arcee mad and she did everything in her power to try and fix the broken relationship between her mate and son but that was proving to be a fruitless endeavor, especially since things had taken a turn for the worse as of late.

When they graduated from school both Wildcharge and Excalibur had sought jobs they could maintain while also training and studying to become police officers. Excalibur had a genuine interest in helping people while Wildcharge thought it might be something he could actually do and not screw up… Unfortunately for both of them the job searches were proving to be more difficult than either had initially expected. Ex had received a multitude of job offers; but only courtesy of everyone who was trying to win the favor of his parents. Wild found himself with the exact opposite problem, since between being a Predacon and having a reputation for a bad temper, he found no one was willing to hire him for even the most insignificant jobs.

So dead end after dead end, the two had nearly given up until they received some job offers on behalf of two of their other friends. A mech named Darkstar and a femme named Seraph. Job offers that led them straight to the gleaming towers of Vos. _Straight to Starscream_.

It wasn't all that surprising considering that Darkstar and Seraph were Starscream's own offspring, a pair of fraternal twins who shared their carriers' arrogance and snarky attitude. Darkstar moreso than his sister but that wasn't important; what was important was that the two young mechs were offered guard jobs by the Vosian ruler. Well-paying jobs, since they were friends with his son and daughter. Naturally Megatron wasn't happy that his son had to go to Starscream of all mechs in search of a job where he wouldn't be bothered by others to gain access to his parents. Since Vos was surprisingly the most peaceful area of Cybertron. It was a separate entity onto itself, ruled by its royal family and it had its own laws and customs which the council had no influence over. Due to this Starscream didn't seek anything from his former Warlord, he was just extremely smug and gloated about his generosity whenever any opportunities to do so presented themselves. Megatron begrudgingly tolerated it, for Excalibur's sake alone he did.

But there was a whole different world of issues when it came to Cliffjumper and Arcee. Which was why Wildcharge had conveniently failed to mention where he had finally found employment. He'd even done a pretty good job of keeping it a secret, until Starscream couldn't resist approaching the young mechs parents at some point, inquiring how their son was enjoying his new job that the Seeker had been so kind to offer. Something that was nothing short of a slap in the face to both of them. Especially considering that he'd clashed with Arcee numerous times during the war and he'd actually **murdered** Cliffjumper! No, this was one insult that neither of them were going to endure and they both demanded Wildcharge quit his job, considering the basic principle of the matter. Wild could have cared less if his sire hated his employer, but he could never say no to his carrier. So out of love for Arcee he gave it up; sad because he was finding that he actually enjoyed working at Vos since no one mocked him for being what he was there. And since that incident it was not that surprising that now a deep resentment towards his carrier was beginning to fester in his spark, like an open sore. Thus his relationship with his carrier was starting to fall apart as well. Megatron couldn't help but pity him… mostly because he could see that burning just beneath the surface, the young mech was developing a dark _rage_. One that with each passing day grew worse and worse. Honestly there were times that he even feared for Excalibur's safety. It wasn't simply him being overprotective, Megatron knew to be afraid because he had been there; been in a similar position to the young Predacon. He knew the pain harboring a rage like that inside a spark could inflict and he knew how destructive it could be if it was let loose. Knowing these things he didn't want his son to be anywhere near Wildcharge when he finally snapped.

"So you're home for the night then?"

"Um…" Excalibur began rubbing the back of his helm sheepishly. "Actually I was going to head down to the museum. Seraph asked me to come with her since Darkstar was staying in to play vid-games with Wildcharge. They're opening the new exhibit tonight and she didn't want to go see it alone. I was just coming back to check in and let you both know I was alright, on account of the protests and everything."

Two interesting facts here; first Wildcharge had also been forbidden to go anywhere near Vos, Starscream's bratty heirs and most importantly Starscream himself… so was it really surprising that he was spending as much time there as he possibly could? Frankly Wildcharge rarely went home anymore, usually staying with Excalibur and his parents, or Darkstar and Seraph in the Vosian Palace at the top of the towers. He had even bribed the janitor of their police academy to let him sleep there on more than one occasion. Virtually if he could do anything to avoid going home he would. Secondly and the fact that made Orion chuckle and Megatron groan in annoyance… Seraph was completely infatuated with Excalibur. She would flirt with him and go out of her way to spend time with him, especially alone if she could manage it. But there was always one big obstacle that usually ruined every attempt she made to get Excalibur's attention… Poor Ex was completely oblivious to all of her flirting and clueless to her true feelings. In many ways it was funny, in many ways it was sad. Seraph was not exactly subtle, granted she didn't exactly throw herself at him but her advances were obvious to anyone paying attention or who was not completely naïve. Ex only saw her as the friend he'd had for years and chalked up her flirtation to her being a bit more physical than others mecha were. In spite of her failed attempts at getting his attention, Seraph was stubborn. No doubt she wanted Ex to accompany her to the museum for more than just seeing the new Predacon fossil exhibits. Which consisted of dozens of fossils recently recovered from one of Shockwaves old hideouts, the exhibits main attraction was a pair of nearly intact skeletal frames, a dragon and a gryphon, embraced in death. The irony was not lost to anyone who remembered the events that had transpired back on the planet Urth... or however the humans used to spell it.

"If that's the case I hope you both have a good time. Oh and say hello to Seraph for me." Orion said encouragingly, honestly he thought that Seraphs crush on Ex was sweet and he would even encourage a relationship between the two. Provided of course that Ex ever realized the femmes advances and found that he returned her feelings.

The young mech nodded to his carrier but then looked to his sire, undoubtedly making sure it was alright with him as well. Seeing this Megatron merely added, _'Go, but be vigilant. If something seems wrong you come back immediately.'_ So once he was sure that it was alright with both his of parents, Excalibur turned and left just as quietly as he had come in.

After their son had left, Orion could not help but laugh slightly. "It's right there." His rather strange words earned him a confused glance from Megatron. "The glimmer of hope I mentioned, it's there inside Excalibur and all the others in his generation. Those who were born after the war ended, they're the hope we have for the future."

' _Shame that there aren't any more new sparks coming forth from the well.'_ Now this made Pax wince. After everything was said and done, the All-Spark was still lost to the stars. The only individuals who knew where it had been sent off to were Alpha Trion and Optimus Prime. But Trion had vanished eons ago and Optimus was no more, leaving behind Orion who could not remember anything about where the All-Spark had been hidden. A legion of Decepticons and even a good many Autobots blamed the former Prime for the loss of such a vital part of their world. The guilt led Orion to do everything he possibly could to try and remember anything about what Optimus had done with it. He even took a trip to visit a mnemosurgeon… one who Megatron could have sworn he'd killed by the name of Trepan. Pax had hoped that maybe the location might have been locked away deep in his processor, but that turned out to be yet another fruitless endeavor. Of course the fact that Megatron had Soundwave literally looming over Trepan as the smaller mech worked with his tendrils out and ready to fry Trepans processor if there was even the slightest hint that something wasn't going right. That probably had not helped things. Even though Megaton's only real regret was that his curse prevented him from being able to finish what he'd started vorns ago in regards to that little bastard.

However the night after Orions trip to the surgeon he claimed to have had a strange dream… One where he said he saw the All-Spark floating in its impregnable container deep in space. Yet he was forced to watch as some sort of monstrous silver serpent silently appeared out of the aether, flanked by a pair of smaller black and white creatures of similar builds, it opened its gaping maw and swallowed the All-Spark whole before continuing on its way farther into the darkness of space. A rather disturbing dream to say the least. Still that was all it was chalked up to be, just a bad dream. Orion prayed with all of his spark that it was just a dream.

"If we could somehow find the All-Spark, I know that would also help give hope to all the mecha out there that things will change for the better." He whispered softly as he once again began to feel the pangs of guilt trying to creep back into his spark. "But even if we never find it, there is still a chance for our people to find peace." Megatron turned and looked his smaller mate dead in the optic and signed his next words very slowly. _'Deep down do you really believe that?'_

"I have faith in it." Orion replied. "I have faith." Although there was a certain amount of certainty in his voice, hidden deep within Megatron could detect the slightest hints of doubt. But as it was buried so deep, his more optimistic partner was likely afraid to acknowledge it, in fear that his faith may crumble away into nothingness.

 _A silence fell between the mated pair, as they both knew all too well that their people desperately needed something more than Orion's faith…_

 _Faith that was quickly going blind…_

* * *

 _The agreed meeting place was a rundown, long abandoned building…_

Swindles smile remained as cheerful and as confident as it had been when he'd first arrived. He was perfectly calm, even in spite of the glaring Cervicon sitting directly across from him. He was well aware of just how dangerous this situation was and yet he just couldn't bring himself to be afraid. Especially considering that found himself with such an advantage over one of the deadliest mechs on all of Cybertron. "While I do enjoy a meeting for any potential business ventures," the merchant said and his voice was still jovial and his trademark grin showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. "but in this case I find that your terms are so terrible I'd swear this was more of a shakedown more than any kind of negotiation."

Thunderhoof's optics narrowed and he continued to radiate an aura of growing annoyance and displeasure. "Call it whatever yous want Swindle; point is that I'm interested in…" He paused for a moment as he searched for just the right word. "lets just say _'investing'_ in your business."

The smaller mech chuckled. "Well that's very flattering coming from a mech of your position Mr. Hoof." He remained polite enough, but there was a slightly darker undertone concealed within his voice. "But at this point in time I'm not seeking any investors. And even if I was I would certainly NOT accept offer even half as bad as the one you just laid out. I mean a 70-30 split of my organization and its profits with everything leaning in your favor? Certainly you must be joking."

"I ain't jokin' around, and yous seem to be misunderstandin' me. For some reason you're thinkin' that you have some choice in the matter." The mafioso's voice also took on a darker tone, only unlike his associate he didn't try in the slightest to hide it. That was when Swindle became aware of two hulking frames approaching him from behind and he cast a half interested glance over his shoulder to get a better look at the pair. The first he was able to identify as one of Thunderhoofs long time lackeys, a menacing looking Dinobot toting a large hammer, obviously Scowl. The other was a large Buffaloid, whom Swindle knew used to work for Contrail. What was his name again? Oh right Terrashock; funny the rumors were that he'd changed employers shortly before Contrails rather untimely and gruesome demise. Still this information was of no importance to Swindle who merely shrugged. Not even remotely intimidated by the sudden appearance of the mob boss's muscle. "Now then, we will resume our discussions."

"Actually…" Swindle said standing up from his seat. "I believe we're done here. So sorry to have to leave but I am very busy-" As he tried to leave he found his path to be blocked by the thugs and he could also feel Thunderhoof rising up from his seat in order to loom menacingly over him.

"Don't yous **DARE** turn your back on me!" he snapped, it looked like he could have murdered Swindle right then and there. Heck he very well might have, if not for a multitude of weapons suddenly activated and within a second Swindle had gone from scrawny little mech to armed-to-the-teeth and ready to blow everyone in the room straight to the pit.

"Really Thunderhoof I had thought that we could be civil with one another. I had been interested in doing business with you for some time now; I figured since your empire was expanding you might need a new supplier for weaponry. Maybe some of the larger harder to come by merchandise? But it would seem that you're more interested in my special-import business; now why would that be?"

"Why?" Thunderhoof growled, but exercising his rarely used restraint he vented deeply before sitting back down in his chair. "That slag you peddle is worth a fortune! Moreso than most of your weapons sales; statues crafted from crystal that ain't native to Cybertron or any of the colonies, cloth no one can identify or replicate… and that energon-"

"If you're like any of my other high-end clients I'd be willing to bet fifty credits that you probably have a bottle of Ambrosia Energon either in your desk or subspace right now." Swindle said smugly. "If you don't I'd be happy to sell you some; one bottle for a thousand credits. Normally I would offer a discount to potential clientele but since your employees are still ready to attack me, I think I'll withhold that said discount." The crime lord emitted a low, menacing growl. But after a moment he gave Terrashock and Scowl a look, to which they both backed away from Swindle and went to stand at the two opposite corners of the room; to await any further orders from their boss. Content with this motion Swindle deactivated his weaponry. "See isn't this better? Now we can talk like rational business mecha. It's so much more cultured."

"Don't push your luck."

"Very well. However it just dawned on me your logic; due to Contrails death you've already taken virtually all of his territory and that means every one of his less than legal _'business ventures'_ are now yours. That's quite a big gain for you financially. I'd say you're probably looking for a squeaky clean and reputable front to launder most of those credits." He snickered slightly. "That, or your just a very greedy mech."

Thunderhoof snorted. "First, nothing that has your name attached to it could ever be referred to as _'clean.'_ Second, does it really matter which one it is?"

"Not really." The arms dealer admitted with a slight shrug. "Although your newly acquired fortune aside; it does say something about the mental capacity of Cybertrons police force for not one of them to be able to realize that a member of the Council was up to his optics in illegal activities."

"Most of 'em are either too stupid to realize it, or they are told to keep their mouths shut by their higher-ups. Heh, sometimes I almost feel sorry for Prowl, more than half of his department is on my payroll and he's wonderin' how come nothin' ever gets done. To bad." The mere thought of this brought a cruel smile to the mob boss's face.

"Anyways," Swindle continued on. "regardless of just which one of my current endeavors is the most profitable and overlooking how you just tried to screw me over… I may still be interested in doing business with you in the future." Well, this rather strange announcement got him a raised optic ridge from Thunderhoof although he said nothing, for which the merchant continued on. "But unfortunately I am running late for another meeting. You see I have to meet with some of my other clientele, seems that there are a few individuals who want to purchase some of my more impressive weapons for their ship. We'll just have to talk at another time." And with that he turned around to leave. Terrashock and Scowl began to make moves to get in his way but a quick motion from their employer stopped them from doing anything. Still Swindle did pause for a moment and cast a glance back at the crime lord, although for once his smirk was absent. "Next we meet it will be on my terms, my _expensive_ terms and at a location of _my_ choosing." Now his voice was cold, devoid of all its usual snarkiness and his tone was all too clearly meant to be taken as a _warning_. He was not a mech to be trifled with, even the most idiotic low level crook on Cybertron knew that. But once in a great while Swindle found that some mecha needed to be reminded of this fact; fortunately it rarely took more than a change in his demeanor to get his point across. So the point being made his smile returned and he quickly added, "Oh and congratulations to both you and your mate on your coming sparkling! I do hope everything goes smoothly. I'll have a gift sent over when I have less pressing matters to attend too." And with that he left, actually he started whistling no sooner than he walked out the door.

An uncomfortable silence lingered for several long minutes; both of Thunderhoofs underlings taking note of their bosses still rapidly mounting anger and they were both getting a little worried that should the Cervicon decide to throw a tantrum that they'd be right in his destructive path. But just when it looked like he was ready to start smashing up his desk, and quite possibly them, a nearby bookcase slid away revealing not only a secret passageway leading to other areas within the building but also revealed that Sables had apparently been there listening in on the entire exchange.

"He really is a smug little glitch isn't he?" She muttered darkly. Her voice sounded like ice, dark and cold. Physically Sables was an averaged sized Praxian whose color scheme was predominantly silver, but had a few splashes of black and green mixed in. Her optics were an unusual color of pale jade with the slightest hints of blue. If one looked very carefully at her forearms one might be able to make out the tips of several concealed blades, no doubt part of her preferred fighting method if her nickname was anything to go by. However there was something odd about her appearance because running across her chassis were several fresh weld marks, as well as several other types of wounds of varying severity. While it was noticeable that these injuries were healing they still looked incredibly painful. But once her presence was known Thunderhoofs temperament rapidly changed gears and he went from raging to worried in less than three seconds.

"Yous should be resting Sables." He said softly, yes _softly_. A tone neither Scowl nor Terrashock had ever heard him use before. Of course that may have been because he had forgotten that they were both still in the room… and once he remembered that he made an abrupt wave of his hand, indicating for the two of them to get lost. Which they hastily did and once they were both gone he returned his attention to Sables. "Yous shouldn't even be here, so why-"

"I'm fine Thunder, stop worrying my big handsome mate." She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Thunders neck and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Besides… I wanted to meet your new business acquaintance."

"You've already met Swindle before."

"Not him…" Sables muttered as her optics began to slowly scan her surroundings. "I'm talking about the other individual in this room. You know, the one that even Swindle didn't know about. So tell me, where is this thief of yours?"

After a moment of rather stunned silence, there was a sound that could only be described as a cross between a snort and a laugh. "Are we gettin' rusty?" The new voice chimed with mild amusement before five forms made themselves known from various locations within the room and amidst the clutter. Within a few seconds they had assembled themselves to form a single mech, more specifically Chop Shop. One of the most skilled thieves on Cybertron. "Of course ya' could have jus' told yer' girl that we was meetin' here tonight."

"With a reputation as impressive as yours is, I figured you were either nearby or already here. And since stealth is so important to a thief's craft... it was not hard to guess which one it was."

"My Sables is just extra perceptive." Thunderhoof stated proudly. "But back to business; since I wasn't able to convince Swindle to willingly let me in on his so called enterprise, I'm just gonna have to put him out of business." He reached into one of the drawers in his desk only to pull out an extremely ornate glass bottle, it was teardrop shaped and was accented with beautiful platinum inlays. Within this bottle shone a beautiful glowing golden liquid. Between the gilded bottle and the unique color of the energon in it, this was something that anymech would recognize on sight. Even though very few have actually had the privilege of seeing it, let alone tasting it.

"Ambrosia Energon." The thief identified, all four of his eyes widening in a bit of shock. He may have been able to get a glimpse of the stuff at the parties held by High-Society mecha, places that he would usually case before he robbed them blind. But alas he was among the masses who had never had the luck, nor the credits, to actually taste it. It was then that a thought occurred to him and he couldn't help but snicker slightly and look at the Mafia boss with a bemused grin. "Guess Swindle was right about you having some in your desk."

"Shut it." The Cervicon muttered as he also pulled out three small glass cubes and he began to pour a small amount into one before offering it to Chop Shop who did not hesitate to take it. He then poured some for himself although he filled his cube with considerably more than what he had just offered the thief.

"None for me," Sables said before her mate could waste any on her. "I'm afraid with how my tank has been lately I won't be able to keep it down." She got a rather queasy look immediately after the words left her mouth. Unfortunately thinking about how weak and unpleasant her tank was brought about a small bout of nausea, although she was fortunate in that it passed quickly.

Still as quickly as the unpleasant nausea passed, Chop Shop did take notice of her discomfort. "Low grade with silver shavings in it should help with that love." He stated rather bluntly, as he took a sip of the Ambrosia. Although his apparent knowledge of the subject caused Sables to raise an eye ridge questioningly.

"And you would know this how?"

The spider mech shrugged as he proceeded to drink down the rest of the exotic fuel before putting the empty cube down on Thunders' desk. "Had a kid brother; his mum couldn't keep anything but that down through most of her carryin' cycle."

"What a _pleasant_ thought." She groaned, silently praying to Primus that she would not have to endure a queasy tank for her entire pregnancy… that and also that her sparkling didn't already have fully formed antlers when they were ready to come out.

"Back to what we was talkin' about." Thunderhoof grunted, promptly returning the conversation to where it was supposed to be. "Now we've already discussed the terms of our little _'business deal'_ yous' are gonna follow that smug little prick-"

"An' find out where an' who all his suppliers are." Chop Shop interrupted. "From all the special energon, to the statues, to the jewels, to all the other fragging junk and baubles that only he sells. It's that stuff that you want in on sellin'. After all he's the only mech on Cybertron who won't give in to your demands and cut ya' in on his business and you can't find his suppliers to take control and burn down his whole enterprise."

"You should be careful to show me more respect if I was you's." Thunderhoof warned. With the day he'd been having, dealing with Swindle and a multitude of other inconveniences his patience for annoying mecha was beginning to run out. "I've offed bots for less in the past."

"But ya won't." Chop Shop smugly countered. "'Cause you're getting' a deal on this lil' arrangement of ours." In the blink of an optic the large arachnid mech's expression changed, going from amused to dead serious. "We'll find out where Swindle gets his stuff and you will-"

"And in return two mechs will have some very unfortunate _accidents_." Thunderhoof said, as he removed a pair of files from his subspace, placing them on his desk before opening them up and showing the data on two different mechs. One was a large rotund mech with blue optics, a thick beard and a dark green and grey color scheme. The second was a smaller mech but still fairly tall, he also had blue optics but his color scheme was a bright orange with black and grey to a lesser extent and he also had a very samurai look to his armor plating. "These two guys, named Hound and Drift right?"

"That's them."

"Rumors have started going around that you tried to kill the one named Drift yourself, but he kicked your aft instead." Sables injected, and even though her words earned her an annoyed glare from Chop Shop, she couldn't help but smile with wicked amusement while she casually flipped through Drifts file. "Now to me that's strange since you're a thief. Normally your marks don't get hurt _physically_. So what did these two do to warrant you wanting them dead?"

"Let's just say that it's a matter of _revenge_ and leave it at that." The red mech grunted coldly and looked away for a moment. He had no intentions of saying anything further on the subject but it was obvious that whatever the reason was, it must have cut **deep.**

Still none of that was important or had any bearing on their arrangement and Thunderhoof dismissed his own curiosity on the subject. "You's are right. This arrangement is a steal; with what Swindle gets for his merchandise in just a month is worth more than what most mecha make in a century. The lives of two worthless nobodies is nothin' compared to those kinds of profits. Profits I have every intention of getting my servos on." He explained while flashing a truly vicious smile. Although he didn't show it, that look gave Chop Shop a very unpleasant chill up his spinal struts. Inwardly he couldn't help but wonder just how many mecha whose last sight was seeing Thunderhoof smiling like that before he offlined them. It was one of those things he got the feeling he was considerably happier not knowing the answer to.

"A deals a deal, we'll let ya know when we've found Swindles suppliers. But we warn ya' it might take some time to find 'em. So in the meantime you'll take care of one of the two bastards?" There was a brief flash of some unreadable emotion within the mobsters' optics; and Chop Shop was unsure if it was some form of amusement or anger. And unwilling to take a gamble on which one it was, the thief was extra careful as he chose his next words. "It would be a form of down payment you might say. After all I am pretty much doin' this 'ere job for free."

The crime lord quietly contemplated this for several minutes, all while his crimson optics bored into the spider mechs, as though seeing if he'd back off of the _'down payment'_ option. When he didn't Thunderhoof smirked and chuckled slightly. "Alright fine, the one named Hound dies first. Yous' gotta get me the information I want before my boys will handle Drift. He's the tougher of the two. But…" he said, his tone suddenly becoming colder than a tundra. "If I live up to my end of this arrangement and yous don't, well… let's just say that I'll _personally_ make you wish that you were never sparked. Capisce?"

"You bloody well made yer' point." Chop Shop stated flatly, right before he regained his snarky smile. "Still thanks for the drink. 'Till next time then." Without any warning, he suddenly divided into his five spider components which proceeded to disappear out of the buildings various exits… all except for one spider which seemed a little more confused about which way it should go before finally giving up and leaving through the buildings main door.

After watching the five smaller segments of Chop Shop finally leave, he cast an unamused glance at Sables. "That… that is some Kaon-born weird right there."

"He's from Kaon?" She inquired.

"Probably, all the really weird mecha can find origins goin' back to the slave experiments that went on down there. 'specially beast breeds like Dinobots, Buffaloids-"

"Wolficons and Cervicons." Sables finished. Her jade optics seemed to become a bit more tired than they had been through the entire exchange with Chop Shop. Although she paused for a moment as a thought occurred to her. "Do you really think he'll be able to find where Swindle gets all of his merchandise?"

"If he does then that's another wave of new income for us; if he doesn't… well there ain't no real loss on our end. And I get to off him as a bonus." He muttered as he rubbed his optics. Sables was not the only one who was getting tired. But unlike his mate, Thunderhoof had been avoiding sleep like the Cybionic Plague and it was starting to worry the femme. She placed her servo upon his shoulder, drawing the Cervicons optics over to hers and he could see the worry shining clearly within them.

"You know, in the long run none of that matters Thunder." She said softly. "We don't need the credits, your biggest competitor is offlined and rusting, and after what you did to the police no one in their right processor would even think about challenging you."

"Accept it ain't enough. Not yet." He muttered. "The credits may be rolling in, but I want to ensure they keep comin'. If I was able to acquire Swindles merchandise I could steal away all his clientele."

"And make an enemy out of the walking arsenal." Sables replied flatly. "Frankly, I'd give up our entire fortune just to have you safe and home at night."

"Eyo, whose worryin' too much now?" Thunderhoof joked, earning him an annoyed huff from Sables although she eventually just shook her helm and sighed.

"Alright, alright but please come home now. I'll make you dinner if you do." She tempted her mate. Although judging by how he cringed at the thought of her preparing any kind of food was on the same tier as physical torture.

"I'll come home but I'm cooking. Sorry Sables but your food is… um… only for mecha of certain tastes." Hoof said, hoping it was the nicest way he could possibly say to his mate that she was probably the worst cook on Cybertron. Judging by the half-irritated, half-amused glare he got from her he was at least partially successful and eventually she did laugh a little bit.

"Actually… I was hoping that you'd say that, because Steeljaw offered to cook me dinner tonight. I'm honestly not sure what it was that he was making, but I left when the smell of burning tar started making me feel sick." He explained as he stood up, his stiff frame creaking in discomfort. Probably resulting from his growing weariness. Ok, maybe there was one cook worse than Sables on Cybertron. Although to be fair the Wolficon's cooking usually ended up burnt to a crisp and completely inedible. Meh, maybe it balanced out. Either way Thunderhoof cringed once again at the thought of Steeljaw attempting to cook something in his home. An incredible public speaker and cunning strategist he was… capable of making anything other than a cy-nutbutter sandwich he was not. And he since didn't eat cy-nutbutter sandwiches as said sandwich usually took him at least an hour to get off the roof of his mouth, he was incapable of preparing anything more than a standard cube of energon. It was kinda sad really.

Though some would find it odd that Steeljaw was actually allowed to freely come over to the crime lords' residence odd, in reality it was not an uncommon event. Even before he had become so well known. The three of them had known each other for eons. The three having come up together from the slums of Lower Iacon, long before the war had started. Thunderhoof had started as nothing more than a lowly thug working for some other underworld figure, but from the shadows he watched and learned how to run things on his own. He had just started to make a name for himself when the war started, and he continued to do so in combat. His strength making him as brutal in a fight as he was intimidating. Steeljaw on the other servo had more luck staying on the right side of the law prior to the outbreak of the war, but being a Wolficon, a lowly _'beast breed'_ his life was made difficult by most _'normal'_ mecha. So when the war began his true talents for strategy and leadership stole the stage. He had led the troops under his command to victory, mostly because he was so severely underestimated by his adversaries. Sables, much like Steeljaw, had spent much of her pre-war life attempting to live honestly and she had an easier time of it because she was an attractive femme Praxian. But she'd always had a rotten opinion of her fellow Cybertronians, due to how shamefully treated her two dear friends and over time many swore that she had solid ice in her sparkchamber. When she joined the Decepticons she was placed under Steeljaws command and he utilized her agility and stealth as a lethal assassin. She was all too happy to sneak into an enemy base and silently slaughter her targets in a violent flurry of blades.

When the war finally ended, Thunderhoof was quick to draw his two old friends into his employ. So a long story made short Thunders empire was thriving far beyond anyone's wildest imaginings and he had taken Sables as his mate and Steeljaw remained his most trusted friend and advisor. And when the Wolficon had begun speaking out against the council, Thunderhoof provided him with the protection he needed. Although he was also benefiting from Steeljaws movement, as it helped his public image. Mob boss or not, mecha could easily be led to see him in a positive light and he'd use this loyalty to further his own personal agendas. Speaking of which he just remembered… something else. Something he had tried not to think about, but it's resurfacing in his processor was inevitable.

"Sables, did the doc say… if the sparkling was damaged when yous was captured?" He spoke in a low voice, barely audible. But Sables heard him as clear as day and she visibly tensed, her doorwings fluttering in a bit of disdain at the question. Honestly she'd hoped he'd forget to ask her about this.

"I've been to two different medics and both have said the same thing... my gestation tank did sustain damage. But at this point it's far too early to know anything for sure." She explained, careful to keep her voice steady and calm. "However when I spoke with Pharma, he assured me that if there had been any significant damage I would have miscarried by now. So there is a high probability everything is fine."

"High probability don't guarantee nothin's wrong."

"Please; please can we not talk about this now." Her voice waivered slightly for a moment… only a moment, but it offered a glimpse that she was frightened. It didn't take Thunder long to realize that he'd made a mistake of some magnitude.

Before he could let her processor linger on these thoughts he caught her by the servo and pulled her close to large chassis in a tight hug. She didn't fight him, in fact the light in her optics dimmed as she just tried to pull her thoughts away from the possibility of something being wrong with their sparkling. They just stayed like that for a while, how long neither were really sure. But when it became too much Thunderhoof was the one finally broke the deafening silence. "I almost lost both of yous that day." He muttered tightening his grip on her. "Never was so fraggin' scared in all my life. Not even when I was in the trenches durin' the war."

"Thunder…"

"I promised yous that I'd never let anythin' happen to you. But then-"

She placed her servo over his mouth, stopping her mate from continuing with his trail of thought. "You've never broken any promise you ever made me, not once in all the long vorns we've known each other. You're a good mech my love; to the mecha who matter you are a good mech. And you have never once given me any reason to doubt you.""

"Then I never will… that's a promise." And with that he too her servo and kissed it, like the gentleman he could be only when he wanted to. No one aside from Sables and Steeljaw had ever seen this side of the mobster and no one else ever would.

 _Their lives were darker than most, they lived in a world where strength was measured by ruthlessness and bloodshed…_

 _But that did not mean they were devoid of love._

 _But little could all these individuals, who were little more than threads in the tapestry of fate could imagine that soon their lives would be woven together and nothing would ever be the same again._

 _The gears of fate were turning…_

 **This chapter has been in the works for so long, I could have left it smaller or even broke it down into two chapters but in the end I just opted for the one mega-long chapter so things can really get rolling in the next one. Due to the fact I am currently back in college with my current workload I hope to be able to crank out an update once every two weeks. I'm not gonna lie though, the more feedback I get the more that might motivate me to get chapters done quicker. Also I am also sure that anyone familiar with Skyrim or the Elderscrolls will probably recognize some of the things I threw in here. Well there are actually going to be A LOT of Skyrim references in here along with elements of** _ **'Primal Rage'**_ **… I'll be impressed if anyone remembers that without using Google… and of course RID2015 and maybe a few other odd things thrown in here and there just for fun and I'll see if anyone can catch them when I do :3**

 **Now to all the readers who read this and still really understand what's going on like I said at the top this story is a sequel to another fic I wrote called** **'Not Alone.'** **Looking back on that story now, even though I love it and I loved writing it, I'll admit that there were really some problems with my writing… so if you want to go and read it be my guest. Just know that I am planning on rectifying all the problems I had with my writing and this story is going to be infinitely better. That is what I am striving for.**

 **As to be expected I own nothing accept for the plot and any OC's that show up and also please remember to Read and Review! ^_^ Also constructive criticism is welcome, unconstructive flames are completely ignored…**


	2. Fateful Encounters

**Chapter 2**

 **Fateful Encounters**

 **(Nearly 2 Vorns Later…)**

 _It was a loud repetitive beeping that roused Swindle from his slumber…_

Of course this was to be expected although admittedly he'd dozed off for longer than he had originally intended too. The beeping was his ships auto-pilot informing him that he was finally nearing his destination after many long hours of travel; in fact as he continued his approach it filled his entire field of vision. It was the colossal gas giant planet known to the denizens of Cybertron as Xolotl and this one was unique as even by gas giant standards it was quite large. Its color scheme consisted of deep shades of purples and blues which gave it an eerily majestic sort of look. However, its beauty was somewhat hindered by the presence of the thick asteroid field which blanketed the entire area anywhere near the gaseous planetoid and it went on for as far as the optic could see. It was well known that this was an extremely treacherous region of space, on more than one occasion Swindle had noticed the wrecked hulls of other spaceships floating silently amongst the giant rocks. These eerie visions often brought back unpleasant and lingering memories from the long Cybertronian civil war. Images of desolate battlefields littered with the frames of the dead and dying. Even though he'd been on the sidelines for most of the battles and had made profits from selling weaponry to both sides, those unpleasant memories still managed to send shudders up the arms-dealers spinal struts.

Pressing a few buttons on his console there was a slight jerk as his ships auto pilot disengaged and he took over flying manually. In spite of having long since discovered this asteroid fields _'sweet spot,'_ the one singular area where the concentration of meteors was the thinnest, it was still far from being an easy voyage and even though he'd long outfitted his ship with heavy asteroid grade armor Swindle still felt much more comfortable flying the ship manually to his destination from this point than simply trusting the auto-pilot. After all, in this quadrant the likelihood of help hearing a distress beacon was near slim-to-none. Not to mention that Swindle always strived to be as discreet as he possibly could when he came to traveling to this area, if only for the fact that he did not want any other mecha poking around in places they did not belong. It was because concealed within the depths of this asteroid field and behind Xolotl was an incredible secret; the planet Diuturnus. The Predacons home world. It had been sheer dumb luck and having indulged in more than a little high-grade that had originally brought Swindle deep into the belt after having locked onto a mysterious energy reading, and this little happy accident had brought Swindle more money than he could have ever imagined. Although in recent times Swindle only made the treacherous voyage to this planet a mere few times per vorn and at the moment he had not been here for quite a long time. Partly because of the difficulty of reaching this world, but mostly because he kept control over the scarcity of the items that came from this little hidden world and that meant he also had an ironclad grip over the prices he charged for the said goods he got from there.

He continued heading straight down the channel, remaining highly alert if any rogue asteroids should get to close for comfort. He'd had several close calls before with giant asteroids barreling out of seemingly nowhere and nearly sending him to meet his maker; or the unmaker more likely… but this time he was pleased to find that he was not encountering any major obstacles past some of the smaller meteors and better yet he was even able to begin his descent into the planet's atmosphere with no major turbulence at all.

For the first few minutes he was unable to see anything through a blanket of dense clouds, but as he continued downward Swindle began to make out occasional splashes of color from the awaiting world below. And when he finally broke through he was greeted with the sights of sprawling mountain ranges as well as three particularly odd shaped mountains that towered high above all the others by tenfold and they had the unusual appearance that they were twisting together in an elegant manner. In fact they resembled towers far more than they did mountains, and they went so high that their peaks pierced the through the clouds concealing them from view. Swindle knew that these three mountains were called the _'Vosian Spires'_. The irony of the name was best understood by knowing that this trio of mountains and much of the surrounding area had been first settled by two of Predakings generals. Both were former Seekers, although how these said Seekers had become Predacons back when they did he really wasn't sure that he wanted to know. But their peaks were actually the highest points on the entire planet, and despite their unique appearance it was merely a coincidence that they looked artificial. But all that aside they were really quite useful when it came to locating his destination.

' _Just past these mountains and straight on until you pass the forest and then head straight until you reach the caves entrance.'_ Swindle thought merrily to himself as he continued heading on the exact same path he had just thought about. Although as he passed the trio of mountains it was hard not to notice that several Predacons had started to fly in close proximity to his ship, having flown over from the lower areas of the unusual peaks. They gave off no impressions of hostility or aggression, merely curiosity at what to them was a strange sight. Not to mention that these Predacons didn't look very large, the biggest one he estimated to be roughly about his size in its beast form. Compared to how big Predacons were on average, especially in their beast modes, it wasn't hard to guess that this was nothing more than a group of younglings. This theory was further backed up when a considerably larger Predacon, one with a vibrant emerald and silver coloration flew close to his ship and said something in a language that Swindle didn't understand to the cluster of younglings. To the weapons dealer turned merchant it sounded like some sort of cross between strange words and snarling roars. But whatever it said evidently had an effect, because all of the small Predacons scattered off in different directions. Once they were gone the adult turned around and headed back towards the Vosian Spires.

' _Well, better that then having another kid getting sucked into one of the engines.'_ The flashback to that rather unpleasant memory did cause the smile on Swindles face to fade for a moment, but then he shook it off. Just as he realized that he was reaching the end of one of the planets sprawling forests, and right after he cleared the last edges of the tree line he saw it. His destination, it was an open clearing at the base of a steep mountain with huge towering trees casting shadows over the entranceway to a cave. A cave in which said entranceway was lined with large stalactites and stalagmites, giving it the appearance of a dragon's snarling maw. Swindle brought his ship down slowly, just close enough as to let the heat of the ships engines radiate onto the 'teeth.' For a while nothing happened, the ship just silently hovered there… but then there was a shifting sound and the stalactites and stalagmites began to recede into the surfaces they protruded from and within a moment the opening was large enough for Swindle to fly the ship a decent ways into the cavern before they came right back out, barring him from backpedaling. Still the ship finally came to rest in what was some sort of central chamber where several other considerably smaller tunnels that branched off into different directions, but there would have been no way to fly the ship through most of these said tunnels as they were built for mecha to use. Yet there was one tunnel that he could have flown his ship farther down and he had done so before in the past when he'd had to deliver some much larger pieces of equipment several hundred vorns ago. Although there was no call for him to bring his ship deeper in right now, since he could easily carry what he was delivering today. Not to mention that he just did not want to have any sort of accident where his ship broke some of the major equipment in this place… the whole _youngling-sucked-into-an-engine_ fiasco was bad enough when it happened! Still Swindle remained excited about the wares that he was going to be showing off today, the said merchandise was currently locked inside what looked like a gunmetal colored crate that was large enough that he had to carry in both servos.

' _This is going to be most amusing.'_ Swindle thought to himself as he pressed a button near the rear of his ship causing it to open up and a ramp descended to the ground, allowing its owner to disembark and head over into the caverns main passageway. The chamber he entered was illuminated with an eerie golden glow, emanating from the numerous cloning tanks filled with amber colored fluid. The tanks were arranged in odd patterns, most of the larger ones were scattered all throughout this cavern organized into clusters of various sizes while many of the considerably smaller ones were arranged in rings. While it seeming made no sense to the naked optic, Swindle knew that if one looked at the arrangement from above it could be seen that the random positioning of the tanks fit together into a unique spider web pattern and the heavy cables and wires that connected to these tanks were neatly woven together and strung up to the ceiling and from there they all converged to the main focal point right in the very center of the web, right in the middle of the immense cave. In Swindles opinion the labs layout perfectly aligned with the personality of its owner; and as he followed one of the pathways in between the setup of tanks containing partially developed creatures within he reached the heart of the room. Or the heart of the web, however one wanted to look at it.

Now the epicenter of the room housed a massive computer system that was so large it could have easily been mistaken for part of the cave itself! Even on Cybertron a computer like this would draw the envy of even the most prestigious institutions and the lab itself would have many scientists drooling. This computer system was hooked up to dozens of monitors, each one displaying different information in regards to the growing creatures or other vitally important data. There were also multiple other pieces of equipment hooked into this computer, including one large and particularly strange looking apparatus that resembled some sort of mechanized safe that was deeply embedded within the cave floor and judging by its position within the laboratory and how meticulously it was set up and monitored, it must have been of great importance. Although what it was and what its purpose was for still remained a mystery. But what had Swindles full attention was what was positioned directly in front of this impressive display of technology. An oversized comfortable looking throne-like computer chair that had some sort of thick silverish colored blanket draped over it and it was where its occupant was currently seated; barely noticeable considering the size of the chair, but still long slender gold colored fingers could be seen tying away at a sprawling keyboard.

"Greetings once again Motar Araninia! It's good to see you as always!" The merchant exclaimed good naturedly as he stopped only a few feet away from the strange chair. The golden fingers paused for a moment, but then proceeded to finish inputting the final bit of information into the terminal before fully disappearing from view.

"You almost had it this time Swindle," A feminine voice said with clear amusement shining through in her voice. A voice as smooth as silk and flowed like liquid velvet. "but it is still pronounced _Mater Aranea_."

"Ha, yes well please excuse me. I am not well versed in the native Dragon Tongue." He chuckled apologetically.

"That wasn't Dragon Tongue; that was Latin." The still unseen femme corrected. "Dragon Tongue is a reclaimed instinctual language all Predacons know from birth. Latin originated on the planet Earth and it must be learned through years of study. Don't feel bad though, I am just well versed in both." The ornate chair then swirled around revealing the frame of an attractive techno-organic spider femme. _Orb Weaver_.

Gone was the awkward, overly-nervous teenager that she had once been; now replaced by a beautiful full-grown adult femme whose very optics were alight with self-confidence and a brilliance that would put Cybertron's greatest minds to shame. Her exquisite black and gold coloration had darkened as she had aged, the gold becoming less vibrant and leaning more towards an auburn color. Although it was hard to tell on most of her frame seeing as it was concealed beneath a gorgeous silken kimono that was a bright gold color shining with the same vibrancy that the femmes own natural color had once been with an ebony sash tied tightly around her midsection. Weaver had an odd fascination with clothing such as cloaks and kimonos. While most mecha didn't wear clothing, or at most wore just a small simple piece much like Swindles own bolo tie, Weaver enjoyed wearing these types of garments. She actually made them all herself from the silk-like threads she could produce from her servos. Wearing these clothes was also not an inconvenience for her since she nearly never transformed anymore. Neither into her helicopter alt mode nor her more arachnid form, of course this was due to the fact that she rarely left her laboratory.

"Fair enough." The taller merchant said with a shrug but then held the large crate out to Weaver. "But I have brought something extremely special with me today. You're really going to love this."

Orb Weaver rolled her large pink optics at these words. "You always say that… still would you like to join me for some Emerald Gale? I was just about to stop for a quick break."

"I'd love too. Thanks." Swindle never passed up the opportunity to enjoy the local delicacies. 'Emerald Gale' was one of his personal favorites, it was an especially delicious fuel made from a special synthetic energon that is then mixed with a multitude of metallic herbs before carefully boiled to the point that the flavor produced is minty and refreshing. All of Swindles specialty supplies came from Diuturnus and while they were cash cows for the greedy sales-mech on Cybertron, on the world they originate from these items were not as rare. Some items were and these were the most expensive and exclusive items that Swindle carried in stock, but most were fairly common goods. Emerald Gale was neither rare nor particularly common. It was more of a seasonal dish really, usually produced during the spring and summer vorns but then in autumn and winter it was nearly never made due to a lack of the required herbs and a general shift in taste. As not many mecha would be interested in a cool minty fuel when it was freezing cold and snowing outside.

Now back on the subject of his client, when it came to dealing with Orb Weaver the techno-organic feme was a very generous hostess, but she was also a shrewd negotiator when it came to business. Honestly Swindle rarely cared for the individuals he dealt with, but Weaver was one of the few exceptions. Maybe it was because he'd known her for all these long vorns and he watched her go from geeky teen to headstrong adult and that led him to have a bit of a fondness for her, maybe it was because she was one of his most interesting clientele, or perhaps it was simply because whenever he did business with her in spite of whatever he had to give he'd always walked away with a _fortune_ in tradable merchandise.

Swindle carefully set down the crate and took what had long become his usual seat in Weavers laboratory, off to the side in what was a small sitting area that consisted of three comfortable chairs and a small table. On the table was an elegant glass bottle, filled with a shimmering light green liquid which was actually the Emerald Gale. Unlike Cybertronians the Predacons did not store their fuel in cubes, mostly they tended to store it in a variety of different containers. Barrels were used for large quantities, but for individual sale and consumption the most common containers were bottles which came in a wide variety of different shapes and forms and all of them were crafted from an extremely durable type of glass. Although it was an odd concept for the merchant he couldn't deny the elegance of many of these glass bottles… sometimes he even emptied the exotic fuels into empty standard energon cubes and sold the bottles separately. Still looking at the spread before him he saw that aside from the special fuel there were also a few other types of energon and even a small type of cake he knew to be called a _'_ sweet roll' which appeared to be mostly untouched. However these other items had a bit of a stale look and smell about them, indicating that they had been there for an extended amount of time. Knowing his hostess these items could have very well been there for several weeks or more. It was not because she didn't like them, it was more likely due to her just forgetting to take the time out of her schedule to eat. In fact Swindle had long since learned that Orb Weaver could become so deeply involved with her work that she could go days at a time without refueling. Eventually it had gotten to the point that the Predacon Queen had made arrangements for food to be brought to the lab in hopes that the ever busy scientist would take some time to actually eat something. This endeavor had been partially successful, but even then Weaver still did not eat nearly as much as she should.

"Please excuse the mess, I'm afraid that I haven't had much time for cleaning." She stated apologetically cleaning most of the stale food off of the table and tossing it into a nearby waste bin before taking her own usual seat across from the merchant.

"Understandable, given the sheer amount of work that you're saddled with." Swindle commented as Orb Weaver poured the shimmering green liquid into a large elegantly crafted silver goblet before handing it to her guest. He took a single small sip and the delicious flavor filled his mouth. Ah, it was these little moments when he _really_ loved his job.

"You shouldn't make it sound like I am being forced to do this job, you know that I love my work." The techno organic femme corrected as she filled her own goblet and took a quick drink of it.

"Oh of course I know that, sorry that came out wrong." The larger mech stated with a slight shrug although his good mood remained undeterred from being corrected. "I mean you must love your job considering that you do it for _**free**_. Something I've told you... I think you're insane for." It was true, since the moment that Predacon race had claimed this planet as their own Orb Weaver had worked in the laboratory and never requested any sort of payment for her ever challenging job. Swindle thought that was beyond crazy; as Weaver did far more than just clone new Predacons from fossils. She had created terraforming viruses, genetically engineered creatures for pets and game for hunting, as well as dozens of other endeavors that were both extremely time consuming and horribly difficult. How anyone in their right processor could do the sheer volume of work that Weaver did for nearly no compensation was so far beyond Swindles ability to grasp that it gave him a splitting processor ache whenever he tried to comprehend it. Fortunately for the sake of Swindles sanity however, in spite of the femme's reluctance to accept payment, the King and Queen did not believe she should be taken advantage of. Hence why all of Orb Weavers non-work related expenses were completely covered by the Royal Family. They had always covered her work related expenses; that had been established right from the very beginning of her dealing with Swindle, but it was later extended to anything and everything she needed from food to any personal desires she may have. But it remained that her non-work related expenses were always pitifully low.

"I am not insane, I just don't want for much. Just a little bit of food, some other bits and bobs here and there…" She paused for a moment as a small slightly guilty smile crossed her delicate features. "Aaaand maybe a day at a hot spring and spa once or twice a vorn."

"The hot springs… by Primus they're heavenly." Swindle chuckled as he recalled the few times that he'd bartered for services that were nothing more than his own personal luxury. "But correct me if I'm wrong, don't you only go to those places when Queen Songbird herself forces you to go outside?"

"Most of the time, yes. But every once in a while I choose to go on my own; although those times are few and far between. I find it more enjoyable to do things with others than alone." She explained.

"I beg to differ." The merchant responded with a slight wave of his servo. "Though I guess that's much more of a personal preference. I enjoy being on my own."

"Not all the time." Orb Weaver chuckled as her razor sharp canines became more noticeable as her smile widened and a mischievous glitter became more noticeable within her pink optics. "There is that one individual whose company you enjoy. You even requested that I create a pack of hunting beasts to give him as a **gift**." Her words earned her annoyed roll of the optics from her guest although he said nothing. "Tell me how is this Lockdown character your so fond of?"

Swindle huffed, "He's the same as he always is. An annoying fragger…" However his expression became slightly less annoyed after a few moments. "But those beasts you made for him are seriously impressive. The only complaint I've heard so far is that he sometimes has issues with them tearing up his quarry to the point they're barely recognizable."

"You said to make them loyal but vicious. I did exactly what you asked." Weaver responded simply as she took another sip from her goblet.

"I know, and he better not let me hear any more complaints. That gift cost me a lot of good equipment."

"And I appreciate that equipment. And in regards to our previous topic; you will recall that there was one time when I did request a fair monthly salary." The techno organic paused for a moment before reaching into her sash and pulled out a small locket which she opened it and smiled at the sight of the small picture within it. "That was back when I was raising Amberwing."

"Oh yes your adopted daughter. She's in her late adolescent vorns now isn't she?" Swindle said suddenly recalling Orb Weavers much beloved sparkling. Admittedly Swindle had never really interacted much with Amberwing but he had seen her several times as a sparkling and a few other random occasions over the vorns. She was a small Predacon sparkling, her frame type was that of a dragon but was a specific breed known as a _'Fury'_ and her coloring had been black and gold, ironically similar to that of her adopted carrier. "Where is she off to nowadays?"

"Currently she's traveling with Predaking and Songbirds daughter, River, and a mech about her age named Ace. She's doing well, I am very proud of her." Weaver explained, still smiling warmly as she carefully put her locket back into her sash.

"I would have assumed you would have wanted her to do what you do. You're not disappointed that she didn't become a scientist like you are?" The merchant inquired.

But at this question Orb Weaver's expression underwent a change, becoming much darker and it bordered on the edge of pure loathe. "Ha! Like my mother was disappointed in me for not being… well, whatever she was… a freelance psychopath? No I am proud of her for choosing to live her own life." But just as quickly as her agitation had risen it had receded. Leaving her expression lighter but she now there was a bit more sadness in her face. "Although I will admit, it is lonelier without her around now… hence what led up to the whole Tarantulus incident."

"Ah yes… him." Swindles own expression became sour at the mentioning of this particular individual, that and he was eager to change the subject from the one that had clearly brought back some unpleasant memories for the smaller femme. Knowing firsthand how disagreeable mecha could be when trying to do business in a bad mood. "I didn't like him from the start. No offense but a lot of individuals, myself included, warned you about trying to create the perfect mate in a test tube." It was fairly self-explanatory, what he was referring too. It was perhaps one of the biggest blunders Weaver had ever made.

"Yeah yeah, you were all right." Orb Weaver muttered dryly. "I should have just listened… Weaver just give it time you'll find someone, Weaver that's a bad idea, Weaver that's not how love works, Mom I'm scared you might be losing it a bit, Weaver honey that's violating the laws of nature again… etc." She finished quoting a portion of the plethora of individuals who had all tried to steer her away from what had apparently been one hell of a bad decision. "By the Divines, the results of that nightmare still haunt me."

"I don't think everything was **that** bad. Waspinator turned out… erm… friendly."

"Yeah, he is friendly. He was my first attempt at creating a perfect mate, unfortunately he's just kind of well… pathetic. _Nice_ but _pathetic_." Weaver tried to explain in the best way possible; after all Waspinator wasn't a perfect specimen when it came to showcasing the femme's mastery of genetics, hence why there were no other wasp/dragon Predacon hybrids out there. Not to mention that he always seemed to have a never-ending run of bad luck. Hence why the poor creature was usually never far from a Healers Chamber.

"Wait, didn't you make Terrorsaur before Waspinator?" Swindle inquired. Orb Weaver just shook her head and sighed before rubbing her optics.

"No, Terrorsaur wasn't an attempt at me making my perfect mate. He was more of what you'd call a drunken mistake."

"But I thought that you don't drink high grade?"

"And that's the reason why. If I drink I go nuts and make crazy gigantic mistakes like I did when I made Terrorsaur."

"Huh… I guess high-grade and gene splicers don't mix." It wasn't hard to hear the amusement in the mechs voice, in fact it sounded more like he was fighting the urge to start laughing. Of course this earned him a slight glare from the master scientist, but that was all. Since there was no reason to get annoyed at something that was a very true statement.

"My processor must have fallen out of my helm that night." She continued. "I mixed Knockouts CNA with that of one of the newer Predacon fossils and he ended up with a half-brother… who is an annoying fragger. You know Knockout STILL hasn't forgiven me for that one." Weaver paused again before exhaling loudly. "And the sad thing is that dealing with Tarantulus was way worse. But that's because I let him fool me for as long as he did. I taught him everything I knew and what ended up happening? He wanted take over my position and use my lab to further his own really twisted goals."

"Well at least you didn't bond with him; and he was dealt with in the end wasn't he?"

"Yes... yes he was." Orb Weaver closed her optics for several moments and if the look on her face was anything to go by, she was clearly worried about something. But before Swindle could inquire as to just what it was about, she reopened them and the look of concern had melted away into her usual contented demeanor. "Now if you don't mind I think it's about time we got down to business then?"

"Ha ha! Those are my favorite words." Now this was exactly what Swindle had wanted to hear and he quickly downed the remaining contents of his goblet before picking up the large crate he had originally brought with him. "I brought with me quite a variety of CNA samples, but also a few that are best described as… _**unique**_." He stressed the last word, clearly something had him ecstatic and he wanted nothing more than to show it off to his client.

"I'll be the judge of that." The geneticist chuckled as she put her own goblet down without finishing its contents before standing up and returning to her seat in front of her computer system, closely followed by the eager merchant. Weaver then began rapidly typing and after a moment there was a slight shifting on her back and her six additional spider-like limbs had unfurled and began typing just as quickly and precisely as her dexterous hands. There was a moment when the main screen went completely dark and then abruptly illuminated with a bright gold screen which was surprisingly devoid of any real information with the exception of two words flashing in a deep crimson coloration reading only _**'System Ready.'**_ Then a loud hissing sound as a section of this massive computer opened up revealing a drawer-like compartment that had a small section which looked like it was designed to hold some sort of cylindrical canister of sorts. "Alright hand me the first one." Weaver stated never taking her attention away from the monitor. Swindle carefully put the down crate and knelt in order to get a better look at the crates digital lock. After hastily typing in the access code, the crate actually unfolded revealing that it contained a multitude of bizarre cylindrical canisters glowing brightly with the light of blue energon. Only it looked different from the average energon, as it was much lighter in color than normal to the point that it was nearly white. With the utmost care Swindle selected one of these canisters and handed it to Orb Weaver who put it right into the opened compartment and then pushed it closed.

"I take it that my CNA Enrichment Cells are all functioning properly?" Weaver inquired as she resumed typing commands into her console. Apparently she was referring to the cylinders Swindle had brought with him.

"Work like a charm. I don't know how you do it; put in a sample of CNA and the fluid replicates it perfectly so to fill the entire container. Your little gadgets are a work of art."

"Kissing up to me isn't going to get you anywhere Swindle, the genetic material you bring me has to do the talking. Aaaand let's see what we have here…" The femme sat back in her chair as the computer screen showed the CNA that was currently being analyzed, then it began to build upon that image until as such time as a mecha's frame and alt mode were clearly displayed upon the screen. "So this is an Insecticon of the grasshopper breed I'm assuming?"

"Yes, it comes from a twitchy little mech I know. He's nothing special but I know how you enjoy collecting CNA to be later used in your projects." It was true, Weaver tended to hoard as much genetic material as she possibly get her servos on. Originally Swindle had just provided her with Predacon fossils from Cybertron, but as time continued on she became interested in more than just the CNA of the ancient Predacons. She began to explore the genomes of other breeds of Cybertronians. Analyzing the unique genes and sequences, gradually moving on to splicing these new pieces of coding into the Predacons she grew in her lab to further the diversity among the various breeds. Two examples of this would be how she had created an Ursagryph Predacon that possessed traits from a tank mecha in order to give it a thicker more durable armor and how she had created a Wyvern Predacon and spliced in some Seeker genes as to give it an increased proficiency in flight.

"Hmm, well it's interesting if nothing else. That's not a common breed of Insecticon but hardly something to get excited about, Swindle you disappoint me." Weaver chuckled putting on a fake pout. But Swindles smile only broadened.

"No, no, I'm just saving the best for last. I'll let you know when we start getting to the good merchandise." With that he carefully selected yet another one of the cells and held it out for Weaver to take.

"Fine, fine." The femme agreed as she finished typing a few things into the terminal before there was a loud sound from within the compartment before it opened once again, only the canister that had been placed within it previously was gone. Well it wasn't really gone per say, Swindle knew that upon having its contents read the computer would move the containers and its genetic contents automatically into a massive storage chamber just below the laboratory. This room was filled with hundreds of thousands of canisters and also just as many Predacon fossils. All safely stored away in the depths of this dark chamber; the computer primarily monitored the caverns contents but should Weaver need to access it directly the only other way to get into it was through the _'vault'_ apparatus that was partially imbedded in the floor. In reality this was just the heavily fortified entranceway to this location, when it came to her CNA collection Orb Weaver was a bit of a security nut. She proceeded to take the next container from Swindle and the process began again.

After going through seven additional canisters which produced less than lackluster reactions in the femme he was trying to impress Swindle paused for a moment, as though checking something and the smile on his face if it were possible suddenly got wider. "And this is the last one before we get to the good merchandise." He stated handing this cylinder over to the scientist who took it and placed it in the awaiting compartment. Only this time as the data was being shown upon the screen it seemed that Weaver actually had her interest piqued.

"And… what do we have here?" She inquired, her voice sounding more impressed than before. Then the screen displayed the image of another type of Insecticon, only this one was of a Rhinoceros Beetle Breed. "Oh very nice. Very nice indeed, an excellent genetic structure."

"I got that sample from a mech by the name of Saberhorn. He's one of my more interesting clients; he's a pirate you see and usually contacts me when he and his crew are in need of new weapons or equipment. Although I doubt I'll be receiving much business from him in the foreseeable future." He muttered as he recalled something but upon noticing Weavers inquisitive look he continued on. "Recently he's run into a bit of a problem; a new player has entered the game and… well, he stole half of Saberhorns crew and the other half he slaughtered. I actually got that sample when some allies of his contacted me; they needed me to bring some better medical supplies to treat his injuries."

"Is he dead?"

"No, came pretty close though. Had no choice but to retreat back into an area run by two Insecticon crime lords; a mated pair named Scorponok and Glowstrike. They have quite a hold on most of the, let's just call them _'enterprises,'_ in the outlying colonies. Very sophisticated operation." He explained.

"I know those names, you gave me samples of their CNA some time ago." The femme mused more to herself than to her guest. But she shrugged it off. "Regardless of the details, I would almost say that this fellow is another decent candidate for my next personal project."

Of course no sooner had those words left her mouth than a look of horror crossed Swindles face. "Oh Primus, please tell me you're not thinking about making another mate!" Again Swindle was not someone to care much about what his clients did when they weren't buying his merchandise, but for the love of Primus not this slag again!

"No of course not. I learned my lesson after my so called perfect mate tried to kill me." Orb Weaver stated flatly before her expression lightened. "This time I'm just thinking about finding some suitable CNA to blend with my own and then implant an embryo in my gestation tank. Nothing stupid about that idea." It was actually somewhat humorous how the happy smile on her face appeared right about the same time that a look that was a cross between freaked out and disturbed appeared on Swindles.

"So the sire is going to be a test tube, which I find ironic because you tried to make a mate in one just prior to this endeavor… frankly I don't know which idea of yours is worse." While dead serious Swindle just couldn't help tossing out that little bit.

"Hey!"

"I know the whole thing is your decision and everything, but sweetspark that's really not how sparklings should be made. They should be conceived naturally, through a night of sex that is regrettable." He added.

"Isn't it always regrettable?" Orb Weaver inquired with a genuinely straight face. Which the merchant found to be a bit well… unusual.

"Pardon?"

"Well in my experience with Tarantulus it was just… eh… the whole thing was just not that great. I mean I have absolutely no idea what people are talking about when they say their optics roll in their head and its pleasure beyond imagining. I think it's just kind of… really, really boring. I can certainly think of better ways to spend a half hour rather than doing that." Clearly this was not a topic Weaver actually wanted to talk about, nor did she apparently have any experience talking about it. Which was alright because Swindle had more than enough experience for the both of them. Frag he could write several books on the subject if he wanted too! He had always enjoyed a very healthy sex life so hearing this was just… _sad_.

"H-Half an…? Oh you _poor_ dear!" So when Swindle could be moved to feel real and true sympathy for another individual it must have been because of something pretty horrible and in his processor this was definitely one of those times. Evidently Tarantulus wasn't just a horrible mech, he must have been just _**appalling**_ in the berthroom! "You know what, never mind. If we stay on this topic for too much longer I am gonna want to give you a discount or something out of pure pity."

"Oh come on Swindle it's not **that** bad." Weaver retorted irritably.

"Speaking as a mech who interfaces with a decent partner at **least** four times a week; yes… yes it is." The arms dealer pointed out and that lead to a rather uncomfortable silence, with the only sound being a low steady humming sound coming from the computer.

"So… did this just get awkward or is it just me?"

"Back to business." Swindle stated finding that he was in agreement with his client and in spite of his surprisingly good relationship with her, there was a limit to these things. Besides if he had the choice between talking about sex or negotiating business, the business option won out every time. "And would you look at that, we have just reached the _real_ merchandise." He chuckled as he pulled out another one of the containers at the same time showing that the case was now nearly empty accept for four more of the cylinders, five counting the one in Swindles servo. "Take a look at what I have here, I guarantee that you will not be disappointed."

"I'll be the judge of that." The scientist pointed out as she took the cell from Swindle and inserted it into the open computer compartment. Within moments the genetic information began to be rapidly displayed across the screen and then based on the information contained within the CNA a basic physical profile of a Cybertronian was displayed and as she looked over the information Weavers interest became evident, moreso than when she was looking over Saberhorn's genetics. "Well this is certainly different. I don't think you've ever given me a sample of this frame type before."

"Rifle alt; very rare indeed." Swindle explained as he selected another one of the canisters. "But, while an impressive specimen, to truly understand the significance of the samples I'm showing you you'll need to see the entire set." With that he handed her the next container of genetic material.

Weaver did give him a questioning look upon hearing his words. "Set? A gestalt set? Hmm, we actually don't have any Predacons who can combine so this might be interesting." Although when the information from the new cell only furthered the confused look written across her face. "Wait, this one seems to have an alt of some kind of electric chair; maybe a torture device? I'm not seeing how this could combine in any way with the rifle one."

"That's because they're not a gestalt set sweetspark." The sing-song tone of Swindles voice was unusual and Weaver was not entirely sure just what to make of it. Honestly she hadn't seen him this giddy since he'd brought her a vast array of Triple-Changer CNA. Still she could not deny her own interest in exactly what was being offered to her so she just took the next cell once it was held out to her. And once again the result produced yet another confusing result.

"Alright Swindle you've given me tank CNA before; what makes this one special enough to earn a place in this little group of yours?" The femme inquired. Although at this moment there was something tugging at the back of her processor. There was a memory trying very hard to come to the surface but she just could not grasp it no matter how hard she tried.

"Patience my friend, everything should become clear after these next two." Again the merriment in his voice was starting to bother the geneticist, right along with that annoying nagging feeling. A feeling that only continued to grow stronger and stronger at the sight of the next figure that appeared on the screen. Only unlike the last image of the tank, this one required more of an explanation if only for the fact that Weaver was not entirely sure just what she was looking at.

"What the frag **is** this guy?!" She asked as she re-read the information several times just to make absolutely certain that her optics weren't deceiving her. "He's huge! And… and some kind of a smelter? What the preverbal fra- wait a minute… there is only one group that looks like-" It happened, that annoying thought finally forced its way to the epicenter of her processor and exploded with the force of a thermonuclear bomb and Orb Weavers pink optics went so wide that they looked like they were just about to pop out of her head. "How did you manage this?! Did you sell your spark to Unicron or something?!"

"Oh sweetspark that was the first thing I sold!" Swindle declared, happy that Weaver had finally realized just what was so in particularly special about this batch of CNA. "But in all honesty, I just happened upon a disabled ship drifting amongst old wartime battle debris. Little could I have known that I had just stumbled upon the _Peaceful Tyranny_ , the vessel of mechs who are so terrifying that carriers tell stories about them to their sparklings at night to scare them senseless-"

"Carriers don't do that Swindle." Weaver injected flatly.

"Hey who is telling the story here?" The mech answered right back, somewhat annoyed that he was interrupted. But the irritation did not last long as he hastily continued with his little tale. "Well while I had been carousing this little space graveyard looking for anything I could sell when I noticed a damaged but salvageable ship. I boarded it only to find its crew, alive but deep in stasis."

"Why would they be in stasis?" Again the femme interrupted but such an inquiry was acceptable so Swindle answered without getting agitated.

"I'm not really sure, but the damages to their ship were extensive, so they were not going anywhere in a hurry. But anyway, when I saw who they were I knew that I had just hit the CNA Promised Land for a scientist such as you sweetspark. Looting their ship was just the silver-dust icing on the crystal cake." He said with a smirk as big as his spark was greedy. "That was a very good day for me Weaver, nothing could spoil it for me. Not even that psychotic little Minicon."

Weaver blinked once, clearly very confused. "What does a Minicon have to do with any of this?"

The merchant suddenly frowned at this. "Ah yes that." he began unconsciously rubbing at his right forearm which Orb Weaver suddenly noticed had sustained quite a bit of damages and if looks were anything to go by these wounds were fairly recent. "Well when I was poking around in the ship I accidentally bumped into one of the stasis pods and it activated, freeing the occupant. I nearly had a spark attack, but then I saw the only creature I woke up was this small foul-mouthed and foul-tempered Minicon. She screamed like a banshee and attacked me! I managed to throw her off but then she went to wake up the other members of that hellish death squad but I managed to stop her. Wrestled her right to the ground and even broke one of her arms."

"Oh Swindle that's horrible!" The techno-organic groaned.

"It was an accident! It just happened when I jumped on her; but it wasn't an accident when I got a good grip on her and shoved her into one of the ships emergency escape pods and jettisoned her into the great unknown." He explained, obviously revealing in the memory as though it was something to be proud of. "It was unpleasant but necessary. I then towed the ship to a more secure location and harvested the CNA without disrupting their stasis. Quite a stroke of good luck wouldn't you say?"

Weaver did not say anything at first, her optics still large and borderline disbelieving the story that the mech before her had just told. "So let me get this straight; you stumbled across the most dangerous mechs in history and while looting their ship… you beat up and jettisoned their tiny Granny?"

"It was just a Minicon; what makes you think those freaks viewed it an equal let alone as their Granny?" Swindle wasn't entirely sure he liked where this was going, he'd expected his client to be more excited than she was.

"I'm playing on an unpleasant feeling that I've got in my spark." She stated with a slight shudder before her expression became much more thoughtful. "Now back on the business side of things I am not going to lie, this is a pretty darn incredible find. A treasure trove of unique genes; these unique CNA codes will undoubtedly be useful in my future genetic experiments. But…"

"But what?"

"Well, now that you brought up Minicons I have a question; one I keep forgetting to ask. Why have you never brought me any Minicon CNA?"

"Because Minicons are not even worth taking samples from. They're not particularly strong, have nothing unique or special about them." Swindle scoffed arrogantly. To him that was a stupid question but evidently it was not to Weaver.

"Nonsense! I'll have you know that vorns back I had the most delightful Minicon pet. A little Cyclone named Bombard. He was so adorable." She smiled as she recalled fond memories that were from the time before she had met Songbird and Predaking, back during the long times when she had been traveling alone in a broken down ship. During that lonely time barely any of her memories had been happy, but that cute little Minicon had always been able to make her smile.

"A… Cyclone?" Swindle repeated suddenly looking quite disturbed. "I don't like those crazy things, frag I don't go anywhere near them if I can help it! They are downright uncontrollable!"

"Nah, you just need to know how to handle them." The intelligent femme suddenly paused for a moment as she began to consider something. "You know, I think I wouldn't mind having some pet Minicons again. Might make it a bit less lonely around here."

Seeing an opportunity to make a profit Swindle wasted no time in securing a potential deal. "I could certainly make that happen! In fact I happen to know an individual with two of little terrors that he's been looking to sell. They're not Cyclones, but I think they'd be decent enough pets for you."

"How do they feel about someone wanting to sell them?" Orb Weaver inquired, unable to disguise the disdain in her voice at this new information.

"I don't think they know. This individual is a nasty piece of slag and only informed me of his intent to sell the two when I inquired what he was going to do to pay his debt to me. He's gonna slap collars on the duo when they're recharging and sell them off to the highest bidder." Well that sounded even worse to the master scientist, evident by her very low growl and narrowing optics. But then again the femme despised any living creatures being mistreated in general so Swindle wasn't too surprised by this reaction. "I think that I'll just take possession of the duo, which should settle about half of his debt to me."

"Yeesh, exactly how much does this guy owe you?"

"Enough for an entire shipment of heavy-grade weaponry." Swindle said with a noticeable irritated tone of his own. "I should have demanded the full payment up front; that idiot thought he and his gang could make off with a cache of credits and merchandise that was owned by a mob boss named Thunderhoof. That didn't go well and most of his gang was killed by one royally pissed off Cervicon. And what remained of the weapons I sold him were all taken by the said mafia boss, which cost me another sale. So yeah I'll take his Minicons, give him a few more days to come up with the rest of what he owes me… or else Lockdown will bust his helm open on my behalf."

"Well if you do get those Minicons I'll be happy to take them off your servos." The small femme acknowledged just as Swindle pulled out the last cell from the crate and began to nonchalantly toss it in the air and catch it again.

"Wonderful!" He declared, his big optics shining at the mere thought of another impending payday. "I might even throw in one of the little basic drone types as well, the Cybertronian police force is going to be throwing a bunch of defective ones in the scrap heap in a few days. Streamlining the force if you will. You don't mind if one of the little horror-terrors is defective do you?" Weaver shook her head no and Swindle merely continued on talking. "Now we just need to negotiate payment for all of the lovely items I have brought you. I'm thinking at least **triple** my usual rate." He said brandishing an overly contented sleazy grin.

"Triple?!" She echoed disbelievingly.

"And I was thinking about getting one of those." The salesmech said gesturing to the thick silvery blanket that had been draped over Orb Weavers throne-like computer chair the entire time. "I've been interested in obtaining one ever since you showed me what it could do."

"First off, even if I wanted to give you one there is no way that I could ever convince Predaking to allow it. This is a blessed skin Swindle, it's _sacred._ So there is no way I'm even going to entertain that option. As for triple your usual rate, I'm not sure about that." Weaver explained.

"Well now I'm disappointed in you Weaver dear, I've never known you to be cheap." Swindle stated with a mock frown and depressed tone which earned him an annoyed glare from his client.

"I'm not being cheap; it's just that it would be difficult to arrange that right now with the festival coming up." Orb Weaver suddenly paused as a thought came to her and a confident smirk made its way across her face. "However I might have a counter offer that you'll find more intriguing."

"I don't know, I'm pretty set on triple rate. But I'll hear you out."

"What if I give you your usual rate now and if you can deliver the Minicons within the next few weeks… I'll make arrangements with His Majesty to allow you to attend the Summer Zenith Festival." She stated confidently, and apparently the said confidence was not without merit if Swindles reaction was anything to go by. He looked visibly caught off guard by this offer, but this look did not grace his features for long before a suspicious look overwrote them.

"The Summer Zenith Festival? Let's just say I am intrigued, but I have to wonder how you could arrange that? I was only ever allowed to attend one Zenith Festival before, the winter one and His Majesty was not happy about it." This was no trivial thing that Weaver was offering. The Zenith Festivals were the Predacons most sacred holidays and outsiders like Swindle were forbidden from attending. The only exceptions to this rule were the extremely few normal Cybertronians who dwelled on Diuturnus who had been accepted into Predacon society and the occasional outsider who had earned an invitation from someone who was trusted enough for their judgement to be respected by other mecha. But that second option was often easier said than done, especially if the Predacon King had any say in the matter which he often did. Even Orb Weaver could not always guarantee that the King would grant her such a favor.

But Weavers confident smile did not recede at all. "The king has been in a very good mood as of late. I'm sure he can be convinced to allow you to attend the festival this time." She explained. "You do remember that he did allow you to attend our Winter Zenith Festival once several hundred vorns ago. Just don't count on getting another invitation any time soon."

"Hmmm…" Swindle went quiet as though considering this offer, but after several long minutes of him not uttering a word Weaver realized that he was deliberately not responding. Neither turning down her offer nor accepting it. After several more minutes passed she realized he wasn't going to give in and she sighed in annoyance.

"Alright… I will try to arrange it so that you can have double the allowance you were given when you attended the Winter Zenith Festival." She added, as when Swindle had attended the previous festival all those vorns ago he had been given a certain amount of currency to spend on any goods and services that he wanted. It had been a generous amount then, and many of the items for sale around the festivals were only available for that said festival and would not be offered again until the next summer or winter. Although doubling what money he was given might not be possible and Weaver knew it. "And if Predaking does not agree to up the allowance, I'll add 25% to your rate next time. Final offer."

That last bit clinched it, Swindle was satisfied with those terms. "Orb Weaver you've got yourself a deal!" And with that he tossed her the last cell that he had been toying around with. "It has been a pleasure dealing with you as always."

"Same to you Swindle;" She chuckled turning her back to him as she input the canister into her computer as she had done with the other samples. "Same to you."

* * *

 _When the door to the side room opened, Sables had already unsheathed a large dagger and thrown it at the door…_

Which was not a good thing for the poor spark who had been just about to walk through the said entranceway. Fortunately whoever it was had the common sense to step out of the way and let the razor sharp blade impale itself in the wall rather than in the mech who had just tried to come into the room.

"Really Sables, what if I had been a mech who was unaware of your tendency to attack first and ask who it was later?" The amused voice of a certain blue Wolficon, Steeljaw said with fake concern and irritation as he walked into the grand room within Thunderhoofs home. The wolf mech looked the same way he always did, only now he wore elegant robes of silver and crimson that had been masterfully tailored to fit his frame. But upon seeing that the intruder was actually her dear friend, the femme visibly relaxed as a smile graced her features.

"Then you would have been an intruder Steely, and you would have deserved a blade in the sparkchamber." She answered with a weak sounding laugh. "But it's a good thing I missed isn't it? Wouldn't want to ruin your good council robes would I?" It was such an unthinkable thing wasn't it? But the death of Contrail nearly two vorns ago had created an opening and within the Cybertronian Council and the original intentions had been to fill the empty position with yet another Autobot. However things had gotten out of control when this information was revealed to the general public and Cybertron had very nearly gone to war yet again. Only this time, it was prevented at the last minute by Orion Pax who announced that instead they'd decided to nominate a Decepticon to the Council. It had been a desperate act, even more so when Steeljaw was the mech that he nominated as the Wolficon had been all too eager to accept the offer. Most of the other council members had been absolutely livid at this but none moreso than Ultra Magnus. But Orion had just calmly explained that it was either to accept the troublemaking former Decepticon or prepare for a never-ending war. Though Magnus had angrily exclaimed that while both options were terrible, he was not convinced that Pax had not chosen the worse of the two. However the act had succeeded in pacifying the still angry Decepticon populations of Cybertron, even if only temporarily. So the council had no choice but to go along with this new arrangement. Steeljaw however had immediately taken advantage of his newfound position, working his magic to manipulate other members of the Cybertronian Council to go along with many of his ideas and visions without ever knowing that they were being lead. It was unsurprising that his public image had only gotten better as a result of it. The Wolficon painted himself a hero and mecha continued to believe him; but his true motives… well, no one outside of his closest associates knew what intentions resided within the depths of his spark. And they didn't know everything about him either.

"Needn't worry about that my dear; I just came by to check on you." He chuckled before taking a seat on the couch that was directly across from where Sables was sitting. He then cast a critical optic around the room and frowned slightly. "I take it that Thunderhoof hasn't been around for a while then?"

"Actually he left a little over an hour ago." Sables explained with a yawn but then turned her attention to the small bundle in her arms that was wrapped in a crimson colored blanket. "He only left when he was sure that Stormshield here was asleep. Little mech kept me up for most of the night, Thunder only got home early this morning and he took over so I could get some sleep." The silver and jade femme explained as she smiled down at the tiny sleeping sparkling in her arms. A _newborn_ sparkling. In spite of having been conceived over two vorns earlier he had only been born a mere five days ago. For as fate would have it the damages Sables had sustained were not nearly as minor as the medics had originally believed. As her carrying cycle continued, Sables had begun to suffer from mysterious weakness and increasing discomfort and pain. There came a point when she knew that something was wrong… and a return trip to Pharma while accompanied by her ever imposing mate and newly appointed council member friend revealed that as her sparkling continued to grow, her scarred gestation tank was coming under increased pressure and was getting close to rupturing. If that occurred Sables would lose her ability to carry again and could potentially lose her life. The safest option was for her to abort until her tank had healed enough for her to safely carry. It had been devastating for her and Thunderhoof to hear and Sables did something that neither her mate nor her best friend had ever seen her do, she broke down crying right there in Pharma's office. She would have done anything to save her sparkling, _anything_. And that was something that Pharma had wasted no time taking advantage of.

The surgeon had developed a theoretical procedure that was capable of doing just what the femme wanted so badly, to save her unborn sparkling. The big problem with what he offered was that the procedure was untested and there was a lot of proverbial red-tape that needed to be handled and Pharma wanted it done _legally_ ; or at least _legal-ish_. He wanted his procedure to bypass all of the usual reviews and scrutiny that such procedures would usually go through before testing, but that could only happen with the approval of a council member. It was no secret that the jet had an arrogant streak that was only rivaled by his oversized ego and his desire to fast track a surgical procedure meant that he wanted the glory of doing something no one else had done in his field. Steeljaw could see his greed and lust for the notoriety and fame so clearly it made his tank churn and he was reluctant to give his signature to this arrogant aft. But it was the only option that would save Sables and Thunder's newspark and the femme pleaded with him to give the medic what he wanted. And unable to ever say no to his dear friend he reluctantly conceded and fast-tracked Pharma's experiment. What happened next was that the surgeon went into Sables gestation tank and arrested the sparklings growth, leaving it alive inside of her but no longer growing. The initial procedure done, Sables underwent multiple smaller surgeries which were to carefully aid the healing of her damaged tank. Only once Pharma believed that his patient's gestation tank was healthy enough he reversed the initial procedure and allowed the sparkling to continue its natural growth. In the end it had worked, everything was successful and Thunderhoof and Sables were blessed with a healthy little mech. He was a bit small side but otherwise healthy. The mechling showed all the signs of his Cervicon heritage from a pair of tiny little horn-nubs to the white fawn spots that blanketed his tiny frame. But there was one odd trait that the sparkling had that did stand out, apparently he had little doorwings that he'd inherited from his Praxian carrier. One of Thunders grunts had joked that his boss's son was a Peryton, a winged deer from an Urth legend… he shouldn't have made that joke in front of his boss though because he ended up in a medbay with a slew of injuries. As Thunderhoof had thought the mech was mocking of his son.

As for the brilliant if not slightly sociopathic surgeon the now publicized procedure had brought Pharma exactly what he had wanted, recognition and notoriety and most importantly it showed up a certain other medic one who he loathed with all of his very being. Ratchet. The aged and experienced mech that he hated so much would have never dreamed of attempting what Pharma had done as the risks were actually far greater than what he had let on. Ratchet had later examined Stormshield just to make sure that there were no overlooked issues but he was relieved to have found none, something he assured the mated pair was nothing short of a miracle. Ratchet was cautious and cared for his patients, but Pharma only saw this as weakness. Only now Pharma's boasting was getting noticed and there were a slew of mechs and femmes who would like to have their sparklings growth arrested, albeit in many cases for less than dire situations. Many mecha in the early stages of carrying would rather put off having their sparkling until a more convenient time… and the surgeon was still more than willing to perform this surgery even under the vastly different circumstances. Ratchet had been deeply worried about this development, for while he could not deny that Pharma was a brilliant surgeon and perhaps he was capable of performing this operation, but if any other medic should make that same attempt… Primus help their patients.

Still returning to the scene that was currently playing out; upon hearing that the Mafia boss was not home Steeljaw's frown only deepened. "He came home, only to leave again in a few hours and you're obviously not recharging. He certainly has been keeping busy hasn't he?"

"It's not like that Steely, I just couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard I tried." Sables countered upon sensing the slightest hint of irritation in the Wolficons voice. "Besides he's been trying to locate a thief who has a debt to pay, if you know what I mean."

"Ah yes, Chop Shop. I take it that he's still not found Swindles sources?"

"Thunder had that Hound mech killed and sawed his head off and gave it to the thief as proof of payment. But it's been so long since we've heard from him that Thunderhoof is starting to think he ran out on his part of the deal." The femme explained as she shifted her sleeping son into a more comfortable position. "He's been given way more time than normal since we've had other concerns. But when it comes right down to it, I think that debts need to be paid… one way or another." Her optics drooped for a moment but she shook her head, in order to try and fend off the feeling of recharge taking her. But this movement was not missed by her guest and his tail twitched slightly upon noticing Sables creeping exhaustion.

"You're tired Sables. I think you should be trying to get some rest now, maybe I stopped by at a less than opportune moment." He said softly. His voice filled with genuine concern.

"I'm fine, Steeljaw. Relax a bit." Sables stated softly but firmly.

"I know that my dear, but you're one of my closest friends so it is only natural that I worry about you. This life you live is so dangerous and I deeply worry for your safety; as I always have and I always will. So I find that I must once again provide you with another option…" His voice trailed off just as the Praxian femme rolled her optics and laughed a little bit. Clearly this was not an uncommon occurrence.

"Here we go again."

"You know me too well and I am also sure that you know what I am about to say." The Council members face suddenly became dead serious. "Why don't you just run away with me?" He didn't stutter and by all means if any other mecha had heard him they would swear that he was not joking. But Sables knew him better than that so she did not take his words for anything other than the joke that they were. So she did what she always did, she laughed.

"Your favorite joke." Sables said, still smiling. "How long will you keep asking me that same thing?"

"As long as it takes darling, as long as it takes." Now it was Steeljaw's turn to laugh although it was only for a brief moment. The two sat in silence for some time after that, silence that was not in any way tense merely comfortable. The blue mech could tell that his friend was very near recharge and quite frankly he was not going to do anything to hinder her finally getting some much needed rest. But Sables was every bit as stubborn as Thunderhoof was and she didn't want to sleep just yet.

"You know if I was any other femme I might start to take your joking seriously," She said softly turning her attention back to her sleeping fawn. Running a single finger down the side of his tiny sleeping face. "But you know how much I love my Thunder. Even if he drives me crazy sometimes, I can't imagine my life… with anyone… else..." But in the end, no amount of stubbornness could overcome sheer exhaustion and Sables was finally claimed by her frames exhaustion and she drifted off into a deep recharge.

Steeljaw shook his helm and chuckled slightly. Same old Sables; she never changed. The Wolficon stood up and picked up a blanket that had been laid out over the back of the couch he had been sitting on and he carefully draped this said blanket over Sables now recharging form. But just as he moved it so as to not have it covering the little sparklings head he noticed that the little ones optics were partially open revealing a soft jade color, but with the white rings of his sires optics just barely noticeable within those tiny optics. The Wolficon paused before gently patting the little one on the helm; the little sparkling just yawned before closing its optics once again and snuggling closer into his carriers loving arms. Steeljaw paused for a moment before turning around to look out one of the grand windows in the room.

 _And as his optics looked out at the world before him, he tried really hard to pretend that there was not something in his life that was horribly unfair…_

 **Yes I know that this chapter is ridiculously late and I apologize profusely for it; my college classes and finals got ridiculously out of hand and then I had a truckload of personal drama that severely cut my ability to work on this chapter… so to make up for it in some way I made this chapter a lot longer than I normally would. And since I am slow at typing that also made this update so late…**

 **But on a much more positive note I am very pleased to assure my readers that now I officially am off for the summer which means the updates will hopefully be regular and quick so no more delays! Once every two weeks is my goal, but I will update sooner if I can manage it. Remember that reviews do motivate me to update quicker! ^_^**

 **So until next time please remember to Read and Review!**


	3. Dark Omens

**Chapter 3**

 **Dark Omens**

 _It was in the middle of the night and Excalibur could not recharge no matter how hard he tried…_

As much as the young mech wished it wasn't unfortunately insomnia was an old friend. He had always had difficulty sleeping, but lately it had gotten worse and was now to the point that a decent night of sleep was almost impossible to obtain. He would just spend hour after hour staring up at his ceiling trying in vain to claim some of the rest he desperately needed before he had to get up and get to work for an early shift. Growing troubles at the Police Department had led to many of the junior officers having to take extra shifts, a great deal of which were in the early morning hours and just as many were in the middle of the night. Under normal circumstances Excalibur wouldn't have had any problems with this, as he had always been a bit of a night owl. But his worsening insomnia had started to affect his job performance and his superiors were beginning to take notice. These thoughts only added fuel to the burning hellfire that was his insomnia and he tossed and turned restlessly for a while longer until he realized with a heavy spark that he would not be getting any recharge this night. So admitting defeat he got up from his berth and walked out of his room and into the living room of the apartment he now shared with Wildcharge.

It was a humble living space, not too large but just big enough for a mech like Wild to move around comfortably and not feel constricted due to his bigger frame. However there was perk that came with this apartment in Excalibur's opinion and that was its spectacular view. It was located a short ways outside of the bustling heart of Iacon, and not a far commute every day to his job at the station. But at night when the moons were out and the city was illuminated and shining brighter than all the stars in the heavens it filled his uneasy spark with a sense of serenity like nothing else. Reminding him of the times when his carrier would take him up to the top of the Iacon Database to show him not only the lights of the city but all of the different constellations in the night sky. These were precious memories to him, memories of a far happier time. But there was also just a twinge of sadness hidden within them as well; but not wanting to entertain any of these unpleasant thoughts he shook his helm before stepping out onto a large platform that served equal parts as a balcony and as a landing pad for aerials. It was far more convenient than taking the long hike up the stairs considering that the elevator was almost never in service and also since both Wild and Ex were capable of flight. Reaching the end of this platform Excalibur sat down on the edge and cast his weary optics towards the city, silently watching it and feeling the tension bleed out of his frame. There were many times he'd considered sleeping outside on this balcony but he knew that in spite of how relaxing it was chances remained that it would do little to nothing with helping to relieve his inability to recharge. After a little while Ex noticed a winged form steadily approaching the apartment and in a great rush of wind and wings a hulking frame landed on the plateau. The frame belonged to a massive dragonformer, and Excalibur's best friend Wildcharge.

The half-breed Predacons beast mode was truly a sight to behold, his body was so big that he barely could fit on the balcony and even then his long bladed tail hung almost entirely over the edge. His coloration bore most resemblance to that of Cliffjumpers, being almost entirely red and obsidian while his optics were a shining cerulean blue. The colossal dragonformer paused for a moment casting a glance to his friend before he transformed. As it turned out he didn't just have the coloration of his sire but they also had very similar body builds, although Cliffjumper was still bigger than his son was. However the dragonformer clearly had his sire beat in one particular thing, his helm boasted a set of horns far larger and grander than Cliffs and he even had a crest in the center of his forehelm like that of his carrier, but unlike with Arcee it only added more onto his intimidating appearance.

"Knew you'd be out here." He muttered as an amused smirk appeared on his face. "Still having trouble getting to sleep?"

"Does it really surprise you?" His friend answered, his voice was as quiet as it usually was but clearly laden with exhaustion. "What are you doing here Wild? I thought you were still on shift until the morning; did Prowl let you off early?"

"Ha, I wish! But the day Prowl lets anyone off early is the day Unicron coughs up the All-Spark." The dragonformer stated with false humor. "Nah, I was sent here to get you. You haven't been answering your Comm and Prowls been trying to get in contact you for the past hour."

A look of complete and utter horror crossed the young mechs face as he quickly reengaged his Comm unit. "Oh slag, I turned it off when I was trying to recharge!" He frantically tried to explain and even though he was clearly exasperated his voice did not really get much louder.

"I figured as much but Prowl was some ticked off at not being able to reach you. Says he wants to talk to both of us." Wild said as he stretched, the sound of his stiff spinal strut cracking was distinctly noticeable amidst the otherwise silent balcony. "I think he's got some kind of special job for us or something, but whatever it is it's gotta be pretty damn important if he had me come all the way back here just to get you."

Excalibur sighed and rubbed his optics. "I've been screwing up a lot lately haven't I? Prowl's getting tired of it, I know he is." He then looked at his brawny friend with clearly worried but also curious look in his optics. "Did he give any hint as to what he wants to talk to us about?"

"Nah, he didn't say anything other than he wants me to get your aft to the Police Station as fast as possible. And Ex, It ain't your fault that you are having problems recharging. Although you could try getting something to help-"

"I'm not taking a sedative Wild." Excalibur shot down before his friend could even finish speaking. "If I start taking something to get to sleep I'll never be able to recharge without it. Besides…" He trailed off for a moment, his frown deepening. "I don't think it would help at all with the nightmares."

"I wasn't going to suggest that; I was going to say that you should just drink enough high-grade until you blackout." Wildcharge chuckled, his tone now showing that he had never been serious but merely joking around. "Or you could just annoy Ratchet until he clubs you with a wrench. That would definitely fix the problem! Frag I don't think you'll ever dream again after that!" He actually did manage to get Excalibur to smile a bit, although it was brief. His mind still focused and worried over what Prowl wanted to speak to him about. He stood up showing that he was only tall enough to come up to his friends' chest, but that was hardly surprising as most mecha were shorter than the hybrid. Still the two exchanged a look of knowing, which finally caused Wilds' cocky grin fade and with an audible sigh Excalibur jumped performing a back flip off of the balcony and transforming into his alt mode, which was a powerful aerial frame like his sire only his was much narrower and sleeker than Megatrons. Wild leapt right after him, frame changing until a pair of massive wings unfurled and his beast frame loosed a roar out of habit.

They flew in relative silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional beat of Wildcharges wings. Below them the bright lights of the city of Iacon glittered as they always did and the noise of the still-busy streets created more than enough sound to make up for lack of a conversations between the two. Although it could not be seen, both mechs were well aware that in spite of the active and seemingly normal city below them there was a storm brewing.

The mob boss Thunderhoof and his organization were continuing to be a problem and with each passing day it became increasingly evident that his influence was spreading. Frag, less than a week ago Prowl had tasked Excalibur with getting statements from several shopkeepers in the northern side of the city, where the crime lord's influence was particularly strong. Prowl had hoped that Excalibur and his calm, non-intimidating personality might be able to coax some of these individuals to roll over on the Cervicon and show that he was extorting protection money from the small businesses in his territory. But that had been a fruitless endeavor, not only had they refused to say anything about the supposed racketeering but one particular shop owner who was a former Decepticon had gotten right up in Ex's face and snarled that he would gladly pay the Mafioso anything he asked since his organization would actually do something if there was any problems rather than wait around the Unicron damned Autobot police force to do absolutely nothing. Ex had then been, literally, thrown out of the shop and told to go burn in the pit, _along with his traitor sire._

Realizing that these memories were leading his processor down a dark path that was going to make an already stressful situation worse Excalibur forced himself to think of other things. Such as wondering just what Prowl wanted with him now and just how much trouble he was in because of his failure to answer his Comm. Nope that trail of thought didn't help much either… But he wouldn't have to wonder for much longer as Police Headquarters finally came into view and he and Wild transformed in front of the precinct and hurriedly made their way into the looming building.

It was busy inside, it always was. Officers were moving about hectically through the various offices filing paperwork, working on a multitude of different cases or questioning suspects in the back rooms. In normal circumstances this would have been considered business as usual, but much like in the city there was a tension in the station and it had been lingering for weeks and at this point it had become more like a stagnant fog. In fact every other mecha in there was so busy with their own tasks that they barely paid the two rookies any mind at all. Well, with one exception of course, a certain yellow mech who had been good friends with the duo long before they had joined the force.

"Glad to see that you guys made it." Bumblebee said with a small smile. Excalibur had been told that Bumblebee had originally lost his voice during the course of the long civil war. But when they had discovered the anomaly of white energon on the planet Urth, before using it all to revive Cybertron Ratchet in his seemingly infinite wisdom had taken a small sample of the potent healing substance and injected it into Bumblebees throat. The result was that the young mechs vocal box regenerated, allowing him to speak once more. Nowadays Bumblebee was a lieutenant in the police force and he was in charge of a small team of his own; a team which consisted of a femme named Strongarm who had completed her academy training and joined roughly three months ago, so she was new enough that she needed supervision and was referred to as a cadet rather than a junior or rookie officer like Wild and Ex were; and two members of his team were a pair of parolees. One by the name of Sideswipe who was just doing community service for a wide variety of misdemeanors although he was apparently at constant odds with Strongarm. The other was a hulking Dinobot by the name of Grimlock who was fresh out of prison for a multitude of property damage and vandalism related charges. Although if the big mechs normal obliviousness was anything to go by most of his crimes were nothing more than accidents and had not been committed with any intentional malice. Finally there was Fixit, a little standard guard Minicon. Although the little guy had quite a few glitches he was still quite loyal to Bumblebee and the group he was assigned too. In the department, Bee's little group was highly unconventional, but a sign of how desperate the force was for mech power. If things were different there was no way in the pit that Prowl would have allowed anyone with even a smudge on their record work for his precinct, and even now he was extremely skeptical of this arrangement. He might not have allowed it at all had Jazz not backed up Bee when he'd suggested this. Still returning to the here and now, after a few seconds Bumblebees newly formed smile faded. "You better hurry and get into Prowls office, he's in a bad enough mood as it is."

"Any idea what this is about?" Ex inquired.

"Not a clue, but Ratchet is in there with him." Bee explained as he began to notice across the room that Grimlock was about to eat all of the crystal-glazed donuts… again. "Good luck… Grimlock put those down!" And with that he hurried off, before the rest of the cops noticed that their only job-related perk, the free donuts, were about to disappear down a Dinobots gullet. Which would probably result in a few attempts on Grims life.

Still when the pair opened the door to Prowls office they found exactly what Bumblebee had said they would, Ratchet was in Prowls office alright and judging by his expression he wasn't happy. But standing alongside the older medic was his apprentice, the mech known as Cloud-9. He stood roughly the same size as Ratchet, but his frame was thin and lithe and sported a pair of wings protruding from his shoulders. His color scheme consisted primarily of blues, blacks and whites. Curiously on his helm were a pair of interesting looking goggles that seemed to have two additional lenses on the sides that he could switch to should the need arise and the young mechs optics and bio-lights were a brilliant gold which led them to really stand out against the color of his plating. Just like Ratchet he did not look happy and the look only deepened when Prowl, who was seated at his desk, set his optics on the duo that had just entered his office.

"Glad that you finally decided to join us Excalibur." He said in a cold emotionless tone that was fully expected by everyone who worked in the precinct, although it was impossible not to pick up on the additional chill that his voice gave off. Which only indicated to Ex that he was in bigger trouble than he'd thought. "Your tardiness to this meeting is unacceptable. I distinctly remember your presence when I informed everyone the need to keep their Comm channels open in case of an emergency. Is following directions really that difficult for you?"

"No sir I just-"

"Being the Primes son will only allow your poor performance to be overlooked so many times. You have already been given more chances than other cadets and rookies who have been in your position. Do not assume that I will continue to overlook your recent run of incompetence." Those words stung, far deeper than any other insult ever could have. As though Ex didn't already feel the stress caused by the public knowledge of who his carrier and sire were… implying that he was only tolerated in the job he had wanted all his life was like getting stabbed with a rust infected dagger.

Knowing that and hardly being one to sit back and listen to his friend get ridiculed, leave it to Wildcharge to open his big mouth and take the attention off of Ex. "Lay off him Prowl, you know that everyone has bad luck every now and again."

"I owe you no such leeway, and your performance is hardly any better. If it stays the way it is I will terminate your employment before this vorn is over." The Praxian stated flatly. Wild just narrowed his optics at his boss and Excalibur swallowed nervously when he saw the look of rage rapidly building in his friends face; but thankfully before he could say anything in retaliation, Ratchet interrupted this unpleasant little discussion.

"Can we please focus on the situation at hand?" The older mech said bringing the conversation back where it needed to be and away from a possibly career-wrecking argument that seemed far too close to happening.

"Indeed." Prowl agreed, before activating a large monitor on the right side of the room, although at the moment it did not actually show anything other than a blank blue screen. "Earlier this evening we received an emergency transmission. There has been an accident on one of the outlying colonies, on the planet Theta-7. The transmission was requesting emergency medical aid from Cybertron."

"That's kinda weird isn't it? Wouldn't it just be easier to request help from some of the other colonies?" Wild asked. "I mean they're a lot closer to Theta-7 than Cybertron is." It was a decent question, but clearly one that Prowl had been prepared for if the speed of his answer was anything to go by.

"Surly you are aware of the situation with the marauders that have been attacking and terrorizing the colonies as of late. According to recent reports we've identified a slew of the individuals behind these attacks." Now at this the monitor lit up with various profiles and mug shots of dozens of Cybertrons most wanted criminals, after about twenty profiles finally one particular profile was brought up in its entirety consisting of a mug hot and a picture of the mech in stasis cuffs. Apparently a very large mech if the pictures were anything to go by. His color scheme was almost entirely dark blue and silver with accents of black and purple, he appeared to have the large wings of a bomber jet along with the cannons that were only ever seen with tank mecha and his optics were large and gold. "This is the ringleader, he goes by the name of Forsworn. He's a known triple changer and a powerful and dangerous mech. In fact he is responsible for some of the most brutal murders that I have ever read about. He's even been called the _'Bringer of Pain'_ in circles of both law enforcement and criminals alike."

"Bet I could take him." Wild muttered under his breath.

The image on the screen then shifted to that of a femme, one that looked as though she was of a Beast Breed. Her coloration was of purples and whites while her optics were an unusual color of aqua. "And this is his lure, her name is Shimmer." Prowl continued. "In some reports this femme brings victims to a secluded area and Forsworn then attacks and often kills them. He's becoming a growing menace. Most of the colonies are unwilling to send aid to Theta-7 solely because of Forsworns' presence. So the burden has fallen to us."

"I believe that I've heard about him." Excalibur said as he carefully studied the images of Forsworn. "I wonder what could have happened to make a mech become a monster."

"Some mecha are just evil from the moment they are sparked." Ratchet replied sadly. "It's best not to ask those kinds of questions Ex, because there are often no answers to them."

"And our job is not to wonder about those things. They are trivial, unproductive and could compromise efficiency. Something you cannot afford Excalibur." The tactician warned before proceeding onwards with the meeting. "Ratchet here has agreed to head out to Theta-7 along with a few other medics in order to provide aid. Due to the hazardous nature of this venture I'm assigning a police escort consisting of six officers. Both you and Wildcharge and along with Longjump, Ropeburn, Zipline, and Livewire who will be in charge."

"Sir, I hate to second guess you but…" Ex cautiously interrupted. "Hasn't… hasn't Livewire already had a run in with Forsworn once before?" He was of course referencing one of the more obscure members of their precinct. Livewire was a heavily scarred up mech who was blind in one optic, the story went that an off-world mission had gone awry and led to his encounter with the mech. Long story short Livewire narrowly escaped with his life, but he'd been in a delusional state when he'd been found and required multiple sessions with Rung before he was deemed well enough to return to his job. The concept of him being in charge of this mission was… concerning.

"He has. But I fully trust him to get this job done properly." The black and white mech stated pretty much brushing off any concerns that the younger officer had. "The ship will take a specific route that I have charted just for this situation. It should keep you far away from Forsworns usual hunting grounds and at the halfway point you will be met by a smaller ship that belongs to a mercenary I have hired for extra security detail by the name of Depthcharge."

"Sir I don't know if putting Livewire in charge is such a good idea." Honestly Excalibur spoke out before he could stop himself. Even Wildcharge cringed as a look of irritation became quickly noticeable within Prowls optics. He never liked to be questioned, especially when it came to strategies and tactics, this was only amplified by the fact he was being questioned by a junior officer.

"Your concerns are noted." He reiterated, his voice precariously on the edge of anger. "But I have already examined all other options and I will continue with the one that I feel will be the most successful. Livewire will do everything possible to avoid another confrontation with Forsworn so you can be assured he will proceed with the utmost caution." His optics then locked onto Ex and if it were at all possible one would swear that the irritation within them was abruptly replaced with a grim amusement. "Besides, I have heard of your prowess with flying ships from Wheeljack. So you've been chosen to be the pilot for this mission. Consider it an opportunity to redeem yourself for your pitiful performance as of late."

"Yes sir."

"Good. The ship is being prepped and will be ready to depart in the next several hours. Get any gear that you require and then head down to the spaceport. You're both dismissed." He said with a slight wave of his servo and returned his attentions back to the two medics still currently in his office and began to speak with them about the number of medics that would be going and what other precautions would be taken to ensure their safe passage. Either way the two rookie officers proceeded to calmly walk out of Prowls office, but once the door closed behind them and they got further into the hallway Wildcharge could no longer contain himself and he jumped up and punched the air.

"Alright!" He practically roared. His voice resounding with joyous glee and getting him some strange looks from the various other nearby officers. "An off-world mission Ex! Can you believe it! Yes!"

"Yes… yes it's definitely something." It was not hard to see that Excalibur was far less enthusiastic about this newfound development. Something which just caused the dragonformer to roll his optics.

"Oh come on this is great! How come you're not more excited about this?"

"Probably because he can see the very clear and present danger we will be facing." Ratchet injected as he and his apprentice had silently come up directly behind Excalibur and Wild. Obviously having finished discussing those last few things with Prowl. "You know you should both contact your families and let them know you'll be off world for some time."

"Meh, I should probably make a call to Vos then. Let Darky and Seraph know we'll be gone and we can't hang out."

"I said inform your **parents'** young mech, not your friends." Ratchet reiterated, a displeased tone in his voice becoming more prominent.

"Not a chance. I'd rather stick my glossa in an outlet." The dragonformer grunted. Unsurprisingly this conversation had spiraled quickly into a heated argument with Ratchet fuming at Wild for his rotten attitude and utter lack of concern about his family… both storming further away from Ex and Cloud-9 who had failed to follow his teacher, perhaps a little nervous around a mech like Wildcharge who looked strong enough to tear him limb from limb. But he looked to Excalibur, worry clearly visible on his face.

"If it makes you feel any better, I have a bad feeling about this as well." He said softly. Cloud-9's voice was very gentle and pleasant, Ratchet had even commented on several occasions that his apprentice had good manners and even an excellent bedside manner. Something extremely surprising when one took into account that the young mech was the offspring of Ratchets hated adversary, Pharma. The twisted surgeon his sire and the cunning mnemosurgeon Trepan his carrier. His small unintimidating frame scarcely would lead anyone who didn't know him to guess he was actually much older than Excalibur and fewer still would guess that he'd ever gotten the courage up to ask to be Ratchets apprentice. Something that had gone over so badly with his sire that Pharma had come disturbingly close to taking his sons head off with a chainsaw.

"I don't have a bad feeling, I am just… concerned about some things." Ex muttered rubbing the back of his helm. "But Prowl is a master at tactics, I'm sure everything will be fine. He wouldn't have authorized this plan if he was not sure of its success." Cloud-9 looked less than convinced but he said nothing else, he just walked off in the same direction Ratchet had gone a few moments earlier.

 _And in spite of telling himself that everything was indeed going to go over fine,_

 _Ex really wished he didn't feel like he had just blatantly lied._

* * *

 _Of all the hundreds of species of mechanimals on Diuturnus, the Rathsivaas was one of the most impressive and dangerous._

It was most easily compared to one of Earth's largest dinosaurs, the Argentinosaurus. It bore a dominantly sauropod body structure sporting a long neck, a whip like tail, four column like legs and an incredibly massive torso. However unlike the earthen sauropods theRathsivaaswas no peaceful herbivore. This beast was omnivorous, eating virtually anything that was readily available and it was well known for its aggressive nature. Its head bore a noticeable similarity to that of theropod dinosaurs such as Tyranosaurus or Spinosaurus, essentially having a bulky head such as the Rex but with a much longer snout, more like the Spino. Running along its back plating were three ridged sails, with the one in the center being slightly more pronounced than the other two on the sides. The colorations of these great beasts were predominately dark, sporting mostly blacks and dark greens with the occasional splash of either grey or turquoise thrown in here and there. These formidable creatures were native to the long deep rivers which ran through many of the jungles of the Predacons home world, living off of the wildlife that lived in the water and also the trees that draped over these winding waterways. But they were also known to eat any Predacons who were unfortunate enough to get to close to the water's edge in their territories. Their size, aggression and their ability to conceal themselves within deep waters and also move with surprising speed in said water made them nightmarish beasts to go up against, only the most experienced and talented hunters would ever consider hunting one and fewer still would even think about attempting such a hunt alone. _Songbird was one of those few hunters._

It was no secret that the Queen loved to hunt and she was widely considered to be the best when it came to taking down the deadliest game to roam their planet. And that is what had brought her to _Kreh Vith_ or _'Twisting Snake'_ river to deal with one of these large mechanimals. The whole mess had started a few months ago, with a creature that was a problem to every species in the known universe, the adolescent dumb-aft. Three young mechs had been trying to lure a particularly large one of these titanic creatures into a trap so that they could gain some renown by killing it. Unfortunately for them the beast was not as stupid as they were and ended up killing one of them and badly injuring another. In a blind panic the two survivors flew back to their village, the injured one leaving a trail of freshly spilt energon straight back to their community which the creature followed. Now this beast had staked a claim around the riverside community and was causing all sorts of problems. Feasting on the rich local cyfish populations as well as eating up much of the vegetation that other mechanimals in the area needed, damaging a number of mechas homes and also injuring any unfortunate spark in its path. But the breaking point had only been a few days ago when a youngling had been playing in the waters near its home only to be killed when the Rathsivaas dragged it into the depths. This sparkbreaking development had finally been brought to Songbirds attention by the village Alpha, who had come seeking aid in dealing with this creature knowing that none of their hunters could take it down. Rather than have several warriors who'd never faced such a creature go and risk their lives, the Predacon Queen opted to go herself and deal with this problem personally. The challenge of dealing with this mechanimal would be a welcome distraction… as she'd had a lot on her processor lately.

So that was where she was currently, walking through the water at the edge of the river. Her optics calm and looking straight ahead, only occasionally glancing over her shoulder towards the much deeper waters. She was making a decent amount of disturbance but not enough for it to be glaringly obvious. She'd hunted these animals before, enough to know that they were smarter than most mecha gave them credit for. But she was also very much aware that she was being followed. Song had noticed the subtle disturbance of the waves, the barely noticeable protrusion of a ridged sail from the water and the utter silence of the world around her. The Queen paused for a brief moment brining up one of her razor sharp talons and licking them, looking completely distracted from the danger she knew was present and waiting. Just as she put her claw down and looked towards the dense jungle only a few meters from her position, the waters exploded! The massive snarling head of theRathsivaaserupted like a beast escaping the confines of the pit and with its jaws wide open; but Songbird had been prepared for this and dove out of the way just before the beast could get her.

The gryphon femme skidded to a halt just out of the monstrous creatures reach. She whirled around and snarled up at it, her own roars a piercing screech that resounded throughout the entire area. The Rathsivaas acid green optics locked on her and its head and neck surfaced more from the depths and judging by how far into the water its neck went this was one of the largest ones Songbird had encountered. It growled back at her and then just seemed to glare down at its much smaller opponent. The colossal size of these mechanimals meant that they were slow, if the initial attack failed they might not continue to pursue their target but rather just slink off back into the water. And that was something Songbird did not want to happen, if it got away now she'd have a hard time trying to lure it out again. So she got right in its range of reach and with a single flap of her wings rocketed up at the beasts head and she dug her claws in to its plating and began to tear at into it. The Rathsivaas screeched as it wildly shook its head, trying to dislodge its attacker but to no avail. After slashing a few more gashes into the creature Songbird jumped off its head and landed on the ground nearer to the tree line just out of the beasts reach. But her plan had succeeded and now the creature was in a rage! It began to move out of the water and onto the shore, revealing a truly massive frame that dwarfed Songbird many times over. But coming out of the river had exposed this beasts' critical weakness, such a lumbering huge mechanimal may have been fast in the water, but it was pitifully slow on land. In Songbirds experience with hunting this particular quarry she had learned that it was next to impossible to beat it when it was in the water, luring it out of its comfort zone was the only way to expose this weakness and take it down.

That didn't mean it was going to be an easy fight; so flaring out her large wings she loosed a powerful bolt of lightning straight at the charging Rathsivaas, only this accomplished no real damage and only succeeded in riling it up more and after a moment she had to dodge a pair of jaws snapping right where her helm had just been. The gryphonformer raced out of the beasts reach once again before taking flight and speeding right back at it! Dodging another of its attempts to bite her, although this time was a close call as she felt its sharp teeth just graze her tail, she transformed midair and landed directly underneath the beasts' bulky torso and well out of reach of its snapping jaws. Reaching onto her back she unsheathed a long sword and she swiftly jumped upwards and sank the blade deep into the creature's abdomen! The screams of pain that it loosed could be heard for miles upon miles in all directions and Songbird cursed her inaccuracy, she'd intended to pierce its core and make this a swift, clean kill only she'd missed her target. Worse yet the Rathsivaas reared up onto its back legs and it yanked her sword right out of her servos, the femme ran backwards barely getting out of the way before it brought its full weight right back down! Hundreds of tons slamming into the ground with such force that the land shook from the sheer force of the impact! The tremors even tripped up Song and she scrambled to get back up as the now frenzied mechanimal was suddenly bearing down on her, it's gaping maw wide open and ready to close on her!

Just before the beast could kill the Predacon Queen, two forms flew right into the side of the creatures head! A pair of Predacons had just come out of nowhere and attacked the mechanimal; not questioning what had just happened Songbird transformed back into her beast form and leapt clear away from the beast and looked back in confusion as she had ordered all residents of the village to stay far clear of where she would be hunting. But no sooner had she just realized who these newcomers were did she notice that there was something else, namely looking over her should just in time to dodge another rapidly approaching Predacon that charged and drilled its rhinoceros like horn deep into the Rathsivaas's front left leg immobilizing it. Unable to support its massive body on only three legs the titanic mechanimal came crashing down, only narrowly avoiding the Predacon that had disabled its leg. Now aware of exactly who this trio of newcomers were Songbird inwardly sighed before she ran forward hurriedly transforming and hastily getting near the downed beasts torso where she pulled her sword free and then jumped onto the Rathsivaas torso, running up to the base of the creatures neck as she brought her blade up before slashing it downward with all the force she could muster… and completely severed the beasts head. There was a moment of silence as the creatures head twitched for a moment until the light faded from its optics and it was done. The three Predacons that had come to Songbirds' aid backed up giving her a better look at them before they transformed.

The first one had been a lean-bodied dragonformer, but its head sported a highly ornate crest and horns. Its torso may have been very thin but it also showed a significant amount of decorative features along the sleek and powerful frame. The wings and tail seemed somewhat disproportionately long when compared to the size of its body, which would imply that this Predacon was abnormally fast. Its the tail ended in what appeared to be ornate bladed fins which must have only amplified its overall control and maneuverability when in flight. The Predacons coloration consisted of dark colors, primarily blacks' greys and silvers with noticeable hues of a dark violet and amethyst that varied in shades throughout its body. Not to mention that its bio lights were all a vibrant purple in color and the color of its wing membranes ranged from a blues to purples as well. When this Predacon transformed into its bipedal robot mode it was immediately noticeable that it was really a femme. A femme with a remarkably sleek and beautiful frame, with her coloration staying predominantly the same as her beast form. She was not as tall as Songbird was, her helm only coming up to Songs neck but that did not count her decorative horns. Her optics shone with a lavender gleam that gave many a mech chills, for it was as though she was looking _into_ an individual rather than just looking _at_ them.

The second was a Wyvern, primarily black in color but sported an interesting orange and red striped pattern running from the top of its head, down its neck and back until it reached the middle of its tail where it became the dominate color for the rest of the tail, a pattern similar to that of a thylacine. Upon transforming it revealed that this was also a femme although she was taller than the first and also sported a bigger overall physic, however she was not as decorated as the other femme and her long legs were digitigrade. Her coloration also lost its unique striped appearance and her frame sported an orange black and red color scheme and her optics and bio lights were a bright and vibrant gold.

The last Predacon was the biggest and broadest of them all, while undoubtedly a dragonformer it was not based on any known species of dragons as it sported extremely thick, heavy armor and at the front of its head it sported a long rhinoceros-like horn and the rest of its helm had frill similar to that of a Triceratops that was lined with deadly looking spines. The body was much more compact and clearly built more for brute strength rather than speed and it had no visible wings. Its coloration was a dark honey mixed with various hues of brown that ranged from chocolate to tan and golden bio lights could be made out on some areas of its frame. When this individual transformed unlike with the first two it was not nearly easy to determine its gender. The Predacon had a robust and powerful frame that was thick and masculine, its legs appeared to be shorter than average while its arms were far longer than they should have been, nearly touching the ground. Its helm was decorated with a multitude of protrusions that gave it the appearance similar to a Native American headdress. It smiled, revealing a whole mouth lined with razor sharp teeth and its yellow optics glittered with amusement. "Honored Friend!" It said in a polite greeting, its voice revealing that it was also a femme, granted one that was speaking in a very loud and boisterous tone. "Why did you not invite us on this hunt?"

Songbird rolled her optics as she sheathed her sword. "Because Solarcharge, this was a risky venture at best and I didn't want to endanger anyone else if I didn't have too."

This Predacon now identified to be named Solarcharge suddenly looked a bit indignant at the gryphonformers words. "Wait, do you think that I am weak?"

"No Solar, nobody thinks you're weak." The Wyvern femme stated calmly. "Sorry Song, but when she said that she was going to join you we figured we'd better come too. Just in case things got out of servo."

"I was coming to help." The brawny femme stated flatly. "And I hunt far better than you do Mythril."

"But you lack subtlety Solarcharge and hunting a creature such as a Rathsivaas requires finesse, not just barreling in without any tactics or plan." The ornate femme explained gesturing to the fallen beast. "And to be honest you're not the best with any of that."

"It worked didn't it?" She huffed, crossing her large arms and her plating appeared to puff up as her agitation mounted. "Besides I didn't see you coming up with any so called pla-" Finally having heard enough Songbird put two fingers in her mouth and whistled shrilly, stopping this little argument and simultaneously making everybody's audios ring.

"Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm watching my young children fight over their toys." The Predacon Queen muttered as a smile appeared on her features nonetheless. "Still it is good to see you all, but I thought we weren't going to meet up until the week of the Festival or at least until after the Summit."

"My clan arrived at the Golden Valley early. I left my second in charge while I came looking for you Song. It's been too long since we last hunted together." Solarcharge explained. Now Solar was in charge of a very large clan of over 100,000 individuals. They were nomadic, spending the winter and spring vorns on one of the southern continents and then migrating up to one of the main northern continents where the royal family resided, as it was one of the most lush and fertile. Solarcharge was the leader, or as her people refer to her their _'Chieftain'_ but the terms for leaders varied wildly around the planet. Some of the most common terms were Chieftains, Alphas, Jarls or sometimes just simply Leaders. However in spite of whatever they were called there was only one ruling mated pair, which was Predaking and Songbird. The king and queen. And the Summit she was referring to was a gathering of the main leaders in a meeting to discuss any issues or disputes that there might be, although many of these meetings ended up in physical fights but that was actually fine for Predacons. To have the strength to stand up for ones beliefs in a physical fight, even if they lost, it was important as a show of courage and fortitude that would earn them respect and honor and show that they were worthy of their titles.

"I decided to come early because I feared for my sanity otherwise." The more ornate looking femme explained. "I left my mate in charge of Understone while I'm gone, although he would rather I stayed put since-" Solarcharge had been sniffing the air for a few moments before her optics suddenly went wide and she interrupted her friend by making a high-pitched screeching sound and pointing at her.

"By the Divines your carrying again aren't you Shadelight? That's it I can smell it!" The announcement only earned her a peeved glare from the smaller femme, having lost the surprise of telling her friends the good news herself.

"Yes… yes I am." She stated flatly. Of course Solar just rubbed the back of her helm awkwardly. Obviously she made a bad judgment call on this one.

"Apologies." She said with a very nervous laugh. But her optics reopened and she tilted her helm to the side. "For an outsider, your mate sure is potent. This is your fourth isn't it?"

Shadelight just sighed, but a small smile returned to her features. It was not like her friend meant her harm or insult, she was just a bit dim in the head. "My fifth. My eldest is Ace, then his sister Nightflare, then there were my twins Sparrow and Celtic. I am hoping that this time it is **just** one though, carrying twins it quite taxing."

"Try carrying five at once." Songbird chuckled. "And then another three. I'm amazed my frame actually regained its normal shape." She paused then and actually looked around, somewhat confused by something she was seeing... or not seeing. "So you all came, but Transmutate did not?"

"I am here…" Came the quiet, near whispering voice of another femme, who had been silent and no one had noticed she had come up behind Songbird and was carefully inspecting the carcass of the dead Rathsivaas. Her thin robotic frame was smaller than everyone else and she also had significantly less armor than the others exposing much of her body as sleek protoform. Her coloration was a simple silver, but there were also noticeable splashes of ivory and light blue on what little plating she had while her optics and bio-lights were a deep ruby colored. Ironically in spite of how little armor she sported or how weak she appeared she had actually gained a great deal more of it since the time that she had first been created in Orb Weavers laboratory. Although she still sported a few odd traits, such as her servos only having three fingers, which was rarely seen outside of the Vehicon breeds, and how in the center of her chassis was a small translucent section of armor that shone with a soft glowing light directly over where her spark was. And yet in spite of her obvious weakness and lack of an intimidating frame, Transmutate was one of the most dangerous creatures on all of Diuturnus. Not because she herself was particularly strong, but because her mate, **Rampage** , was so fiercely protective of her.

When it came right down to it Rampage was one of the most feared mecha on the entire planet, he was violent, powerful and borderline psychotic. He had even developed a much deserved reputation as a cannibal, which had only furthered the fear just whispering his name could generate. He was widely regarded as a living nightmare and nearly all Predacons, no matter what their breed, would make great efforts to stay well clear of his territory. He was also immensely powerful; in fact there was only one mech who had beaten him in a fight and that was Predaking himself. Although there were always the whispers of it being a very close fight. Fortunately for everyone Rampage had absolutely no interest in gaining power or status, he was a rogue and wanted to remain that way. Not bothered or burdened with social troubles, hence why he lived with his mate in a very dark and secluded swamp where he was free to hunt and kill whatever he wanted be it game or any trespassers foolish enough to wander in.

But in regards to Transmutate, who was one of the weakest Predacons to ever exist; Rampage went from being a homicidal maniac to a doting, loving mate. She was the love of his life and her kind nature was a harsh contrast to his destructive one and it was because of her that Rampage actually toned down his destructive ways. In fact Predaking saw an opportunity in this and he had approached him with the option to become his head interrogator, or to put it more bluntly his head torturer. While this particular job never had a really excessive amount of work associated with it there were times that bandits and raiders would cause enough trouble that assistance with dealing them was required. So if one of these outlaws was captured they would be brought to Rampage who would _'extract'_ information from them. He could get any mech to spill their proverbial, and sometimes literal, guts. As the mere thought of going to face Rampage alone made most mecha cooperate with their captor's immediately. Still, even if interrogation wasn't what was needed Rampage was still given victims… but only the most wicked and vile. When they were given to him he was free to do whatever he wanted with them, as their fates now belonged to him. And the maniac took immense pleasure in torturing them to death.

Transmutate turned away from the mechanimals body to face Songbird with a small happy smile. "It is good to…. see you again." She said, although her speech impediment was highly noticeable. Unfortunately she could only say a few words at a time before her vocalizer would cut out and it would take a few moments before she could speak again. "Sorry that I did….. not say something sooner."

"Aw that's alright 'Muta, we are used to it!" Solar laughed although the looks she got from all the other present femmes made her bite her glossa for her poor choice of wording. "Uh, sorry. That didn't come out right."

"It's fine." Transmutate replied having not taken any offence from Solars words anyway. "Song, you look tired, were… you hurt?"

"No," Songbird said with an audible sigh. "no… but I am a little tired. I've had a lot on my processor lately." She explained although her answer was oddly vague.

But vague or not Solarcharge just snorted before clapping one of her massive servos across Songs shoulders. "You just need to spend some time with your friends. Being a leader can be a tiresome burden! You need a good long hunt to ease your processor."

"Thanks but no thanks." The Predacon Queen said getting out from under Solars arm and holding up her servos. "As much as I love hunting, dealing with this beast, I'm not up to anymore." And as soon as these words left her mouth it was like watching all of the wind getting taken out of Solarcharges sails. Fortunately Mythril had an alternative activity in mind.

"You know the Healing Springs that I work at just extended its massage wing." She said catching the attention of her friends. Her workplace was where Mythril had originally met her group of friends and it remained one of their favorite meeting places to this very day. Orb Weaver on the rare occasion she left her laboratory tended to go to this location although she referred to it as a spa, in spite of the fact that term was not really used by anyone else on Diuturnus.

"I think that sounds lovely Mythril." Songbird said as the thought of a nice long bath in a hot spring after this whole fiasco sounded just perfect.

"I would also like to… go." Transmutate agreed.

Although unlike her more agreeable companions Solarcharge growled a little bit. "I would rather go hunting."

"Really? Even though the house special is now Roasted Newt, served with a spicy Red Energon Sauce?" Mythril inquired and judging by how the much bulkier femme almost instantaneously went from growling and grumbling to drooling, her bait was successful.

"Well if everyone else wants to go, I will honor the decision." She declared, trying to quickly backpedal on her previously vocal desire to hunt.

"Really smooth Solar," Shadelight commented dryly rolling her optics. "But I could definitely go for a massage today."

"Then I think we are all in agreement." Songbird noted. "But first I need to inform the Waterside Village that the Rathsivaas has been slain."

"Wait… you're not gonna take any of the meat?" Solarcharge asked surprised. "It is your kill after all."

"The castles pantry is full of fresh meat and if I want something special I can go out and hunt for it." Song explained. "Besides the community has been struggling with this beast messing with the local wildlife. They can use the meat to hold off until the natural balance returns to normal. There is enough here to feed their village for quite a while."

"Song your generosity never fails to amaze me." Shade chuckled before she transformed and took to the sky, closely followed by Mythril. Solarcharge also transformed into her beast mode, but just as before she bore no visible wings. She reared up onto her hind legs which almost gave her an appearance that was almost bear like and then spread he bulky arms out also showing that she had some sort of thick membrane stretching from her abdomen to her elbow, and within seconds her plating began to shift around. The armor on her shoulders began to slide down onto her arms and the plating near her elbows shifted outward, pulling out the membrane. Simultaneously a great deal of the plating on her back slid down onto her stubby tail, elongating it. Within a minute or two the compact built dragonformer had become an interesting looking wyvern; she beat her wings a few times before eventually getting into the air and showed a surprising amount of maneuverability as she did so. Lastly Songbird and Transmutate reverted to their beast forms; Transmutate's dragon alt mode appearing every bit as fragile and weak as her robot form but her wings had also gained a bit more armor over the long vorns and had also taken on a much more 'feathered' appearance than they had previously.

So the sound of beating of wings and jokes made between old friends echoed through the skies as the five of them flew down river towards the village. But over time the Predacon Queen began to slow down. Her sapphire optics out of focus as though something unspoken was lingering deep inside of her processor. Due to the current conversations taking place between her friends this was mostly unnoticed, indeed she seemed to be quite… distracted.

But the normally quiet Transmutate did take notice of Songbirds slowing pace and the look that filled her optics. So she fell back until she flew directly alongside the gryphonformer. "What is… really bothering you?"

"Oh it's nothing." Songbird said trying very hard to dismiss speaking about whatever it was that was bothering her and went silent, attempting to ignore the smaller femmes optics that were locked upon her but eventually she just gave up. Transmutate had a gift for getting mecha to tell her the truth and the real irony of it was that she often did not need to say a word to do so. "A few days ago I was doing a reading with my tarot cards, and… and the cards I drew were Death and The Tower, which together translates to great change and great trouble. Obviously not a very good combination but that wasn't the problem." She paused for a moment, trying to find just the right words to continue. "As soon as I looked at those cards, I had a premonition, a really strong one. I mean I hadn't had one like this since before the three Divines finally arrived. And I just know that in the coming weeks something is going to happen that will greatly change our world."

"Have you… told anyone about this?"

"No and I wasn't going too. Not until I know more about what this feeling means or if I just might be a little overstressed and the whole thing is just me overreacting." Song explained as best she could, although as she looked ahead she saw that Shadelight, Mythril and Solarcharge had taken notice of their friends oddly slow progress and were waiting up for them to catch up. Clearly this was not the time nor the place to continue discussing such issues. "We'll talk later. But please don't mention this to anyone." Transmutate gave her a quick understanding nod before they both increased their speed and rejoined their awaiting companions.

 _Although Songbird remained careful not to let anyone know about her lingering fears about what events were on the horizon…_

* * *

 _Finding the Spider combiners refuge was surprisingly easy for Thunderhoof and extremely bad for the thief…_

As it turned out his residence was deep in the slums of Kaon, in a rundown and boarded up old factory. The place had been abandoned long before the war had broken out and while it had been fixed up back when the populations had first started returning to Cybertron. Only with Kaon being Kaon it quickly fell into disrepair yet again; in short it currently looked like Father Time had long since taken a bat to the place. When the mob bosses underlings had finally managed to track down Chop Shops location to this wretched building Thunderhoof had immediately headed over there in order to _collect_ on the debt that was owed him; only when he kicked in the doors and taking a few steps inside he became a little fearful that he might accidentally fall through the floor. He even had several uncomfortably close calls as the rotted floors creaked under his immense weight. But fate had different plans, because the sound of someone or something moving around upstairs brought the thief up from the basement only to come face to face with an angry Cervicon. Thunderhoof reacted as expected, he charged the Spider mech and sent him flying straight through a wall into one of the back rooms thankfully one with a much more stable floor… and he began to ruthlessly and mercilessly pound the thief into the ground.

"Yous thought you could cheat me?!" He snarled hatefully, his optics blazing with unbridled rage as he pulled Chop Shop up by his neck and plowing his fist into his face. The red mech slammed hard into the ground moments before a cloven pede kicked him straight in the chassis forcing all of the air out of his vents. "How's that workin' out for ya' now freak?!"

Chop Shop coughed violently as energon oozed out the sides of his mouth. "Y-You're wrong!" he barely managed to choke out. "We weren't cheatin' you! S-Swindle doesn't meet with his suppliers often-" The combiner did not get the chance to finish his sentence before Thunder stomped hard on his back, nearly snapping the mechs spinal struts.

"Yous sayin' that in two fragging vorns yous couldn't find out where that litte glitch gets his stuff?!" The mob boss snarled before pressing his pede down on Chop Shops back again only now he didn't remove it and began to gradually apply more and more pressure with each passing second. "Some fraggin' thief yous are!"

"But we did find something!" Chop Shop all but screamed and Thunderhoof paused in applying more pressure to his soon to be crushed victim. Seeing what might very well be his only opportunity to save his hide he continued with what he was saying. "Swindle only goes to meet with his suppliers a few times a vorn, three or four times at max! But before he does he usually stocks up on really high tech lab equipment. The specialized stuff, very hard to get and even harder to move on the black market." Although the Cervicon began increasing the pressure once again indicating he better get to the point. "He already went to meet with them this vorn but he didn't pick any equipment this time!" Mysteriously Thunder started to ease off the pressure and his expression got a bit softer.

"So what yous are sayin' is, you missed your fragging opportunity and you need more time… Well too fragging bad!" He roared picking up his pede and this time went to stomp Chop Shops head!

"He's goin' back in three days!"

The cloven pede stopped mere inches from the thief's face and then slammed it down right alongside his helm and for a moment that felt considerably more like an eternity, there was no movement from the crime lord. Chop Shop hastily continued with what he was saying. "H-He's goin' to meet his supplier again in three days; this time we heard him say he's fillin' a special order. He's buyin' Minicons."

Thunderhoof raised an eyeridge at this rather strange revelation. "Minicons? What the frag would he need Minicons for?"

"We dunno', but apparently his suppliers want some. He already got two from Razorpaw and I know he was lookin' to buy one of those standard Mini's from the police force. Supposedly he got a deal on a defective one." He swallowed nervously as the mobsters' expression remained more or less indifferent to this new information. "He's also discussin' buying one last one from a friend of ours. What he doesn't know is exactly what he's gettin'." At this Chop Shops right arm detached and Righty nervously skittered around trying quite hard not to show how intimidated and afraid he was. Unfortunately this part of the gestalt mech was a little damaged in the processor. "He's gonna be buyin a part of me… and we can follow our parts clear across the galaxy. We'll find where his suppliers are… just… just give us the three days and one more to get in contact with you."

The silence seemed deafening and Chop Shop knew he could do nothing more to save his hide, it all depended on whether or not Thunderhoof was willing to give him a little more time. Not a high chance of that actually happening as patience and giving second chances were not exactly things the Cervicon was known for. After a while of considering everything, a smile crossed the Mafioso's face right before he kicked Righty into a wall and picked Chop Shop up by his throat, that smile not fading in the slightest. "Yous know what? I am in a very good mood right now, so yous gonna have those four days… and I don't have to tell yous what'll happen if yous fail." He said in a disturbingly upbeat tone. Not the tone of voice of someone who'd beaten a mech within an inch of his life. He then dropped the gestalt and made his way towards the exit, seeming entirely too pleased with how this whole thing had gone.

Chop Shop coughed and shook violently, but he looked over at his aggressor before wheezing out. "Still the same deal as before..." This caused Thunderhoof to stop dead in his tracks and glance back at the thief.

"What?"

"Our deal. D-Drift still… you'll still have him killed?"

Thunder looked genuinely surprised, but the look didn't last long before a sneer took its place. "Eyo that's pretty fragging brave of you to ask; considerin' yous are lucky to be suckin' in air right now." He chuckled coldly before pulling a cygar out of his subspace. "But sure, why not? If yous make good on your end I'll make good on mine." And with that he put the cygar in his mouth and left. Leaving Chop Shop lying on the floor, feeling like he'd just been thrown through a mountain.

A slight whimpering caught his attention and he looked over to where Righty had landed. His right arm component was laying against the wall, one of his back legs clearly broken. Chop Shop winced, that was gonna hurt when he reattached. Normally he could still maintain nearly all of the feeling in his parts when they separated but poor Righty had never been right in the processor, not since the thief was younger… frag, he had been just a stupid adolescent, and back then some punk down had nearly taken the little spiders head off with a shovel. So using all the strength and willpower he could muster the combiner managed to stand up and walked over to his injured limb and picked the little sobbing critter up and after petting its head for a few moments before it calmed down enough to reattach. No sooner did it do so did the pain of the broken parts shoot through his already badly beaten frame. The overall agony shooting through his frame brought the red mech down to his knees and he succumbed to another wave of coughing which led to more energon splattering on the filthy floors. A worrying sign, and he could only hope that Thunderhoof hadn't mangled his internals too badly.

 _Still he did not have any time to worry about his injuries, he needed to pull himself together…_

 _He had a job to do after all._

* * *

 _To say that Airachnid was unhappy with her current employer may have been the understatement of the vorn…_

She skulked through the halls of the ship she was unfortunate enough to be stuck on, _the Vagrant_. It was a far cry from the old Decepticon warship _Nemesis_. Not to mention that she was forced to keep company with a variety of mecha she could barely stand to be around. There were of all types here, in other words both standard and beast mecha. But unfortunately there weren't any other Insecticons. Which was particularly unfortunate because if there had been she just might have attempted to take control of them and raise a little pit. Not because she wanted to take over, no, it was because she wanted to create a scene and use the opportunity to get as far away from this place as possible.

The long vorns since the wars end had not been kind to the spider femme. She looked like slag, her coloration fading to a dull gray in places, one of the horns on her helm was cracked to the point that it could potentially break off at any moment and a certain dullness had settled into her pink optics. And it was not just cosmetic either, as her vision had now started to get staticy in really bright environments. It was normally an easily correctable condition, with a simple surgery from a well-trained medic being all it would take to correct it. But that procedure cost money, something that she'd always had plenty of even from before the war. But when she had finally gotten off of Eart- wait was it spelled Earth or Urth? After all this time she honestly could not bring herself to care one way or another. But when she checked her secret accounts they had all been wiped clean. How that had happened she still couldn't figure out, as no one had known where she had stashed all of her mostly ill-gained wealth. It should have still been there! But speaking of Urth; she had been stuck on that wretched little dirtball for quite a long time and by the time she was able to escape it, things had started happening. Horrible and terrifying things even by her twisted standards. Dark energon and an awakening evil god sort of things. How it had turned out in the long run she wasn't exactly sure. But from tidbits that she had gleamed over time was that most humans were dead and a very small percentage of them had been saved by their old Autobot allies and they had become _'Spark Born'_ whatever the pit that was. The only upside to living through that nightmare was that she knew for a fact Jack Darby had not been among the survivors. It made her black spark sing as she thought how that must have torn up dear old Arcee. But whatever became of Unicron reawakening she didn't know, but evidently he still hadn't attacked Cybertron or anyplace else for that matter. Perhaps he had been stopped yet again? Most likely as it was the only explanation that made sense. And she wasn't even going to touch on the subject of the planets moon exploding or the insane demon glitch that came out of it…

So to sum everything up, in the aftermath of the war Airachnid had found herself virtually homeless and creditless living in a constantly annoyed state that only seemed to disappear when she had the chance to indulge her favorite hobby of hunting creatures down 'till the point they were nearly extinct. And yet she could not often indulge this hobby due to her lack of a ship or any other form of transportation let alone equipment. Not to mention the tiny little fact that she was labeled a war criminal and had a large price on her helm which had her clashing with Bounty Hunters more often than not. Fracture and Lockdown primarily but the few times she had crossed paths with Drift hadn't been pleasant either. Eventually she had started to work for mecha who lived off Cybertron and who were involved in less than legal activities. Individuals who could make use of her skills as torturer; unfortunately seeking out clientele had also been what had gotten her into this particular mess in the first place. To avoid a long a tedious story, Airachnid's previous employer had run afoul of a mech by the name of Forsworn and had ended up blown to bits. After his offlining she had been given two options; serve Forsworn or die… needless to say which one she had chosen. However working for Forsworn was… difficult at best. The gigantic mechs behavior was downright _odd_. He could be beating the life out of an entire ship full of mecha one moment and staring blankly off into space while his arm was still lodged in some poor mechs abdomen the next. He was extremely violent, completely unpredictable and… _quiet_ … really freakishly quiet. As in if he wasn't making thinly veiled threats to those who worked for him, he was holed up on the ships bridge with not a sound coming from it. Which is exactly where Airachnid was heading at this time and as she approached the large looming doorway she couldn't help but swallow nervously before walking through it.

The bridge was almost pitch black, the only light came from the glass window that looked out into space and a sea of starlight gave off a very faint illumination. But the darkness was relieving to her strained optics but as she scanned the room she did not see Forsworn until-

"You better have a very good reason for coming in here." The voice was as cold as a dead star and every bit as dark. She turned to her left only to see that she was standing alongside what could only be described as a massive throne where Forsworn currently was seated. She could easily make out his huge frame and his large golden optics staring down at her almost lazily. But she could also make out another set of optics in the darkness, a considerably smaller aqua blue pair that without a doubt belonged to Shimmer. Forsworns constant companion; apparently she was sitting on the arm of the throne if not Forsworns arm directly. During the very brief time Airachnid had been under this forced employment she'd determined that she didn't like Shimmer. The small femme gave off the feeling of weakness and Airachnid couldn't help but fantasize about cutting her cute little helm off very slowly. Still she wouldn't dare attempt it, not for as long as Forsworn was there to protect her.

"I'm just here to report that the emergency transmission was received by Cybertron." She explained calmly. "Our intel states that-"

"The Cybertronian police force will be escorting a group of medics. They will be heading out in approximately eight hours, thirty five minutes and twelve seconds." Came a completely toneless, emotionless voice from directly in front of Airachnid actually startling her for a moment. But then she glared down at the owner of the said voice.

It was a Minicon, but not like any Minicon that had ever been seen before. Its head, neck and chest were that of one of the standard Minicons that were used as guards or caretakers, but its long arms were distinctly that of a Decepticon torpedo and its lower body had four legs that obviously made for a Cyclone breed. Finally on its shoulders were three long rods that laid down as much as they could on the Minis back, but halfway down these rods became hellish serrated blades that looked sharp enough that they could potentially slice a mech in half. This disturbing little creature was almost painful to look at, its little patchwork body that was covered in crude weld marks and medical bolts that somehow healed into an agonizing and outright cruel form. It was a testament to the very worst experimentation that was allowed to be done on Minicons. Clearly whoever had done the work on this one had been very sick in the processor, but the most unnerving part of this Mini was its optics… or lack thereof. It didn't have optics, just black holes that had obvious scratches around them. Clearly when its optics had been removed it had not been voluntary. Airachnid knew that this was Ghoul, Forsworns own personal little freak. Although up until this moment she was unsure if it was even capable of talking.

"Well clearly you were already informed of the developments." She muttered icily as Ghoul just stood there, motionlessly looking in her direction with those empty sockets of his.

"Why are you really here?"

Blunt and straight to the point as always. "I was just curious as to what the plan is… and what the loyal members of your crew are going to get for our trouble?" What happened next went so fast that Airachnid didn't even have a chance to react. In a flash Forsworn had grabbed her up, her entire chest and shoulders able to fit easily in his massive servo.

"You'll get whatever I chose to give and nothing more!" He snarled as his gold optics blazed with a rage that seemed to have erupted from the depths of his spark. "Let me make this very clear to you, you're only alive right now because you have some kind of use to me. You and every other mech or femme on this ship; right now the only thing I am willing to give is to not kill you right here and now! Am I clear?!" At that his optics suddenly hazed over, like he was no longer in control of himself or that he had just zoned out as he was known to do… but whether deliberately or not he began to really crush the spider femme in his powerful grip. The sound of her brittle frame beginning to crack and snap became extremely audile as she tried to cry out but the increased pressure on her vents muffled most of the sound. Before Forsworn could kill her Shimmer reached up and gently touched the side of his helm, causing his hazy optics to clear up and while not releasing his grip on Airachnid his attention went completely onto the femme.

"Let her go; she's more useful alive than dead." Her voice was best described as hollow. As in there seemed to be some sort of feeling or emotion within it but somehow it just wasn't real. The massive mech paused for a moment before letting the spider femme fall to the floor.

"Get out." Forsworn commanded and Airachnid clearly did not need to be told twice! She scrambled out of the dark room as fast as she possibly could. Only after the sound of her faint pedefalls had disappeared did the hulking mech turn his attention towards his Minicon. "What are the chances that **he** will come with the other medics on this job?"

"Calculations dictate that based on his personality and under normal circumstances, there is only a 21.86% chance that he would come to assist them. But factoring in the possibility of the medic known as Ratchet will be going, that brings the probability up to roughly 57.44%." Ghoul explained in his usual emotionless tone.

"Those odds still aren't that good Forsworn." Shimmer commented, though her hollow voice resounded with the faintest hint of what might have been real emotions. "We're better off just going to Cybertron and looking for him there. I mean we already know that's where he is."

"Shine, you know that if I was to set one pede on Cybertron then mecha would start talking. Triple changers are not common… He might hear the whispers and flee before I could get my servos on him." The giant explained. "But if we can catch his new _mate;_ " A maniacal grin suddenly flashed across his face, showing that he'd apparently filed both his upper and lower canines into razor sharp points. "Well that changes things. When the torture starts he will come to me... and I will never ever have to go to that wretched planet."

"According to my calculations, providing that our target is on the approaching ship, the plan has a high success rate of 92.15% if the spark tortures are implemented. Certain pain inflicted on a bonded spark can affect the other partner, no matter how great the distance between them is." The Mini continued turning his head to look at his master. "Mates can also communicate silently over a bond. Sufficient torture should imply the subject will call to his mate via this bond and bring him to us that way."

"Now you're telling us things we already know." Shimmer chuckled as she slid off of the arm of the throne and walked over to the mangled Minicon and gently pet him for a moment before picking him up and hopping back up to the same spot she had been sitting before. Only now she just continued petting Ghouls helm, but he continued to not show even the slightest bit of emotion at what should have been a comforting action. Shimmer just paid it no mind, she returned her attention back to Forsworn. "Are you really sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. I am completely sure." He said as his optics got that same faraway look in his optics that he had gotten before, only this time his smile only grew wider, grew more insane. "After all…" he continued.

" _Revenge is a dish best served on fire and screaming."_

 **You know this chapter was not supposed to be quite as long as it turned out, but there were so many parts that I wanted to cover that it ended up taking a lot longer than I originally anticipated. Sorry about that ^^; Still at least it's nowhere near as late as my first update right? Now the following chapters are going to be when the real action starts! As always please remember to Read and Review! The more reviews the faster I will try to update! ^_^**

 **Also I should have probably stated this before, but at the end of the chapters if I do not translate the Dragon Tongue or to all you fellow Skyrim fans the** _ **'Thuum'**_ **in the story, then I will post the translations at the bottom. Just as I will do for all of the Latin I will also be using as well. There is only one right now but in future chapters there will be a lot more.**

 _ **Rathsivaas or 'Rath Sivaas'- Thuum- Translates to River Beast**_


End file.
